Callie ushered Mary into the room. She didn’t like the closed half-circle that appeared before her. She could only hope Jasper Powers would spring to her defense. She could sense Mary’s stiff back. It amazed her that the child wasn’t ranting and raving and trying to defend herself against her sister’s blatant attack. Callie advanced a step and placed her hands gently on Mary’s shoulders.
“Mother of God, what happened to your eye!” Jasper said, walking over to Callie and grasping her face in his large hand. Callie swallowed hard. To lie or not to lie?
“I walked into a right hook, sir,” she said honestly.
“Anne socked her, Papá, for no reason. We were tousling on the floor, and she tried to separate us,” Mary said in a calm, even voice.
“You don’t really expect us to believe that, do you?” Anne Powers asked. “Anne does not tousle on the floor like a street urchin. Anne is a lady. I thought we were making a lady out of you, Mary.”
“Did you do this to Callie?” Jasper said, hauling Anne to her feet.
Anne squealed and cried, “Mamán!”
“Jasper, unhand that child. You only have to look at her to know she did nothing. Now, young lady, I want the straight facts this minute. Callie, how did you allow this to happen? I’m shocked. You are in charge of Mary, and I thought you had the situation well in hand. Obviously I was wrong. I don’t see how I can do anything but dis—”
“Mamán, don’t be hasty,” Rossiter said, coming into the room. “Now if you had a witness to this deed, would you back down like the wonderful woman I know you to be?” He put his arms around his mother’s shoulders and bent to kiss the top of her head. Anne Powers smiled, the first genuine smile Callie had ever seen on her dry, bony face.
“But, of course, dear boy. Have you ever known me to be anything but fair where you children are concerned?” Above his mother’s head, he stared at his father. Jasper sucked in his cheeks and turned his head slightly. Callie held her breath. Mary remained stiff as a board beneath her hands.
“Miss Goody-Two-Shoes there took it upon herself to tear up some drawings Mary made as a gift for me on my return. Mary didn’t like it and said so. Later your darling daughter returned with a glass of flowers and threw them into the fireplace. I saw it all!” Rossiter lied.
“Rossiter, you wretch!” Anne screamed as she fled the room. “I hate you! I hate you, Rossiter!”
Callie’s breath came out in a whoosh. Mary slumped against her and would have fallen if Callie had not gripped her shoulders tightly. Gentle pressure told the little girl it wasn’t over yet. No matter what, a reprimand was in order. Someone must suffer for the favorite daughter’s humiliation.
“Let the girls go, Mamán, so I can begin to regale you with tales of my too-long holiday.” Rossiter tightened his hands on his mother’s shoulders and once again kissed her, this time on the temple.
“Jasper, you handle the girls. Mary isn’t to come to the table tonight. Callie, you keep something cold on that cheek and apply some of that face powder before you serve at dinner this evening.”
“What about Anne?” Jasper asked quietly.
Callie could see Rossiter’s grip on his mother’s shoulders tighten. “Anne is hardly a child, Jasper, and can’t be dismissed from the dinner table. How would I explain her absence? We’ll think of something, won’t we, Anne?”
Out in the front hall, Jasper picked Mary up and sat her on his shoulder. “Papá! I’m too big for this!” Mary cried. She couldn’t see what he was saying if she sat perched on his shoulder. Callie would have to keep the conversation going.
“Both of you handled yourselves very well. Did Rossiter tell the straight of it?” he asked Callie.
“Yes, sir, but we told him that was what had happened. He didn’t actually see it.”
“Oh, well, hearing is almost the same as seeing. We won’t mention this again. I’ll have a few words with Anne and see if I can make her see the light. She’s getting too old for such nonsense.”
At the nursery door, Jasper hugged Mary and then on impulse gathered Callie into his embrace. What a sweet girl she was. He wished she were one of his own. “Which one of you two do I have to thank for the flowers on my desk?”
“Me, Papá. Do you really like them, really? Hugh took us to the meadow behind the church. It was so beautiful, Papá. Callie and I picked as many as we could.”
“I’m thanking you personally for thinking of me, darling. Many was the time I picked wild flowers in my youth for the girl I was courting.”
“For Mamán?” Mary asked in surprise.
Jasper eyes took on a faraway gleam. “No, you rascal, it wasn’t your Mamán. It was a girl no older than Callie, back in Ireland. Her name was Sheila, and she did love wild flowers. She used to make garlands of them, and once she made me a crown. She said I was the king and she was my queen.”
“What happened to her?” Mary asked.
“She died of a fever the year I came to America.”
“Did you put wild flowers on her grave?” Callie asked.
“Yes. Yes, I did. Run along, you two, and no more nonsense. Be sure to thank your brother for the fib he told to keep you out of hot water.”
Now how did the girl know he put wild flowers on Sheila’s grave? Lord, that was so long ago. He often wondered what his life would have been like if he had married Sheila Flannery. If she hadn’t died, would he have found a way to bring her to America? It was strange how he could remember the anniversary of Sheila’s death but not his wife’s birthday. Sheila was his first love. No matter how old he got, he would never forget those wild, exhilarating times.
After Jasper left them, Mary kept up a running conversation about Rossiter and what a wonderful brother he was and how he always came to her rescue when she needed him. “He’s like a good angel, Callie, my own personal good angel. Nothing bad ever happens to me when Rossiter is around. Don’t you just adore him. One time I heard Mamán tell that to Papá. She was upset, and Papá just laughed. If he gets married, then I’ll have a new sister. Can you imagine that, Callie? Callie, did you hear me?”
“Of course I heard you. You love your brother. You should love him. He’s your own flesh and blood. Both of us must remember to thank him for getting us out of our problem.” She was safe, thanks to Rossiter. She wasn’t to be dismissed for neglecting her duties. Rossiter had come to her defense even if it meant telling a white lie.
“You didn’t answer me, Callie. Do you think Rossiter is the most handsome man you ever saw, and what do you think about me getting a new sister if he marries?”
He wasn’t handsome—he was beautiful. He was young. He was noble and had come to their defense like a knight in shining armor. He was younger than Byrch Kenyon. Now why was she thinking about Byrch Kenyon at a time like this? Married? Mary said something about Rossiter getting married and his wife becoming her sister. She felt her mouth pucker into sour lines. “I thought you said I was like a sister to you,” Callie said childishly.
The remainder of the afternoon went by swiftly with Callie helping Lena in the kitchen. When Lena and MacDuff saw what had happened to her eye, they sympathized. “Looks like you’ve got the beginnings of a real mouse there, Callie,” MacDuff said. “I hope you gave her double for that.”
“No, Mr. MacDuff, I like to think it was an accident.” She was conscious of her eye and could hardly bear the thought of serving at the table tonight looking like a street arab in front of Mrs. Powers’s guests and Rossiter.
“Lena, make up a poultice for the girl. Use some of that stewing beef and lay it in the vinegar for a minute or two. That’ll take the swelling down. And hand over that bread dough, woman,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. “Our Callie can’t hold the poultice and knead the dough at the same time.”
Lena looked at MacDuff for a long moment, her hands poised in the flour. Since when did MacDuff offer to help around the kitchen? She turned to glance at Callie and then back at the handyman. Was something going on here? L
ena turned back to her bread dough, slamming her fist into it. “If it’s a poultice you want for ‘our Callie,’ get it yourself, man. Can’t you see I’m busy?” She stole another glance at Callie. All these years Lena had been trying to light a fire under MacDuff, and it seems Callie was the one to set the spark.
Callie’s eye was much improved by dinnertime. The face powder Anne had given her hid the explosive redness. Dressed in her black bombazine dress with a clean, frilly apron, Callie managed to serve dinner that evening. Rossiter regaled everyone with descriptions of the museums and churches he’d visited in France and Italy. He was so animated, so engaging that Callie wondered how life had gone on at all at the Powers’s house before Rossiter came home.
Chapter Thirteen
“Callie, wait till you hear!” Mary was sitting up in Callie’s bed waiting for the dinner party to end so she could share her news. It was very late, and Callie was exhausted. Cleaning the kitchen with Lena seemed to take forever. Finally Hugh MacDuff had come in for a late cup of coffee and offered to scrub the last of the pots and pans.
“Wait till I hear what? Why aren’t you in your own bed, Miss? Do you know what time it is?”
“I just had to wait for you, Callie, I had to! I have such exciting news!”
“I don’t think I can handle any more excitement for one day, darling. But you won’t sleep unless you tell me.”
“Rossiter said he’d take us for a buggy ride tomorrow. Not Anne, no one else but us! Mamán said it was all right since she’d be wanting to sleep late in the morning. We can have a picnic lunch and everything. Two wonderful days in one week!” Mary hugged the pillow, rolling over onto her tummy. “I do so love Rossiter. I think I’ll take my new doll along for the ride. I’ll have two Callandres with me. Aren’t you excited, Callie? Rossiter said you were pretty. He said you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen!”
“That I doubt, Mary. No doubt you prompted him to say that. Now are you going off to bed by yourself, or do I have to drag you? Get along, darling, I’ll come and tuck you in as soon as I’ve changed.”
Mary leaped out of Callie’s bed and hugged her soundly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. Never in my entire life!” Then she scampered off to the nursery to wait for Callie to hear her prayers.
Rossiter Powers woke from a dreamless sleep ready to start the day. Bright, golden sunshine danced across the bedroom floor. He stretched and yawned. He liked this time of morning best of all. To wake when things were serene and quiet allowed him to think pleasant thoughts, to remember wonderful times in the past and to project his longings for the future.
Lacing his hands behind his head, he closed his eyes. The smile that played around his full, sensuous mouth was wicked as he let his mind travel back to his last encounter with a vibrant young lady before returning home. His active mind searched for a name to place with the vivacious young woman who had literally devoured him. Jane . . . Janet . . . Janelle! That was it—Janelle. He didn’t like to think of himself as a callous youth like some of his friends. He took his affairs seriously and always parted company with fond words and an empty purse. He detested emotional scenes, preferring to say he would return one day and pick up where he left off. In a way it salved his conscience and allowed the young woman a few more dreams. He didn’t consider himself a lover who hopped from one bed to another. He liked to seek and choose a woman who pleased him and then build their hours together into something lovely that could be remembered and thought about in the early hours of the morning. Like now. One had to take the bull by the horns and live life to the fullest. One walked away from every incident and encounter with dignity. Rossiter Powers was a young gentleman. A gentle, considerate man. A young man his mother could be proud of. A young man his father wished he could have been at his age. It was hard sometimes to live up to such expectations, but he tried.
Take little Mary, for instance. She adored him. The child would laugh and smile all day in his presence. Mary always reminded him of a tadpole for some reason. Not a pretty child like her sister, she was up against it in more ways than he could count. But now that she had her own companion, it looked as though the tadpole could swim at last with expert guidance in the presence of Callie James. Beautiful, gentle Callie James.
Rossiter swung his long, muscular legs over the side of the bed. He smoothed back his rich, golden hair and laughed aloud. He did love life. He was home in the bosom of his family, loved by all. The sun was shining, and he was taking his favorite little sister and her companion for an outing. A day long outing. The tadpole was going to have a day to remember with her big brother.
He whistled softly to himself as he shaved and combed his hair. He dressed carefully but casually. He knew he looked good in almost anything he chose to wear. Janelle had told him he had more style than all the men she had ever known. Janelle hadn’t been all that young, so there must have been many men parading through her life.
Satisfied with his image, Rossiter headed for the dining room and his breakfast. He couldn’t start the day and offer a day to remember without being fortified.
Callie drew Mary to her and spoke slowly. “You’re going to be careful today, Mary. Remember, you must face your brother whenever possible.” The little girl nodded happily, her round eyes full of excitement. More and more as time passed, Callie wished she had told Mr. Powers about Mary’s hearing problem. To be denied the sounds of life was almost unbearable. Why had she promised the child? Because she was a child herself at the time and didn’t know any better. Not to hear the birds at first light, not to hear the wind whisper in the trees at eventide. Yet the child was happy. She had her own world, and Callie could tell that Mary was more aware than she was of things going on around her. Her other senses were honed to a fine degree and served her well. But these were all excuses, and Callie knew it. Each day she prayed that her guilt would subside, but it didn’t. If anything, it intensified as the days passed. What if an operation a year ago could have restored Mary’s hearing? Now that time had passed, the child was hearing less and less, it could be too late.
Mary’s thin arms went around Callie’s neck. “I do love you, Callie James. I love you more than Anne, but not as much as Rossiter. Well, maybe as much as Rossiter. Yes, I love you the same.” Callie laughed. She did love this winsome little one. “If I didn’t have these wretched freckles on my face, I would be truly happy,” Mary complained.
“Nonsense,” Callie smiled. “Think of them as small copper pennies, and you’ll never be poor. They’re . . .” Callie sought the right word. “Fashionable. They make you different. I wish I had freckles.”
“Do you really, Callie?” Mary squealed, hugging her companion again. “Do you really wish you had freckles?”
“Of course. I would think of them as tiny badges of honor. I wouldn’t care if no one else had them. They would make me different, make people look at me a second time. People would point me out and say, ‘Look at that young lady with freckles.’ I should love the attention.”
“Oh, Callie, whatever would I do without you? You always make me feel so much better. Promise me you’ll never leave here.”
“I’ll do my best, Mary. But remember that talk we had not too long ago. I told you that forever is a long, long time. I can’t make a promise like that to you. I’ll stay as long as your Mamán and Papá feel you need me. Now, if you’re ready, I think we should be getting downstairs. Tardiness is not a virtue.”
“You’re right, Callie. You’re always right. Rossiter detests women who tarry and primp and preen. He says if God wanted you stuck to a looking glass, He would have glued you there in the first place. Isn’t that funny, Callie?” Not waiting for a reply, she rushed on, “Do you think this dress is acceptable? Does it make me look like a little girl. Does it, Callie, does it?”
Callie tried to hide her smile. “What did I tell you about trying to be something you aren’t? You would look silly trying to pretend to be Anne in her ruffles and ribbons. Your look very ni
ce. The green in that dress is just the right shade for your hair. And, yes, you do look like a little girl. A beautiful little girl. Now, mind your manners and let’s be on our way.”
“You look fine, too! That face powder did the trick with your eye. Rossiter is going to love you, Callie. I just know he’s going to love you as much as I do.”
It was an unusually warm day with the sun shining brightly. To Callie, nothing could be more perfect.
Rossiter kept up a running conversation with Mary but was careful to include Callie in everything. He would ask her opinion or explain something she questioned him on. Mary was scrooched sideways on her seat so that she was half on Callie’s lap. This way she didn’t miss one word her adored brother said. He liked Callie, she could tell. And Callie liked Rossiter. Callie kept blushing and smiling the whole time. It was wonderful. Just wonderful. Her two favorite people in the whole world liking one another.
Rossiter was at a loss to explain the wonderful time he was having. Was it the look of wide-eyed wonder on Callie’s face when he pointed out something to her and Mary? Was it the warm color that flooded her cheeks when he spoke to her? Was it her shyness and her protection of his little sister that tugged at his heart? Whatever it was, he was having the time of his life. He threw back his head and roared with laughter when the two girls giggled about something. It was such a contagious sound, he couldn’t help laughing. At his suggestion they took a break from. sightseeing around St. George and had tea and cakes. Rossiter himself served each of them with a flourish and bowed elaborately after the waitress left their table. While they dallied over tea and cakes, Mary begged for an ice cream cone. “I don’t think Callie’s ever had one. Please, Rossiter.”
“For you, tadpole, anything. Chocolate or vanilla?”
“Vanilla,” Mary chirped.
“I . . . I don’t know,” Callie stuttered.
“When in doubt, chocolate. Besides, it’s my favorite.”
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