More Than Words Volume 4

by Linda Lael Miller

  Serena rushed to the back door and flung it open. “I rode Cherokee today!” she shouted. “And so did Charlie!”

  Luke appeared in the doorway, and Callie’s heart did funny things again when he immediately hoisted Serena up into his arms and gave her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.

  “All by yourself?” he asked, his gaze connecting briefly with Callie’s over Serena’s head.

  Bodine squeezed past them into the kitchen and then sat down politely, as though awaiting instructions.

  “Well,” Serena admitted, drawing out the word, “for a little while. Charlie was on the horse with me some of the time.”

  Callie kept her face averted, waiting for the sudden heat to fade from her cheeks.

  “How come you didn’t bring the puppies?” Serena asked Luke.

  He set her gently on her feet. “Their manners aren’t good enough for visiting,” he said seriously.

  Serena approached Bodine, patted the dog tenderly on the head. “I don’t think we have any dog food,” she fretted.

  “That’s okay,” Luke answered, and Callie could feel him watching her, which, of course, only increased the pink throb in her cheeks. “She’s already eaten.”

  With a relieved sigh, Serena pushed the door closed. “She probably wouldn’t like tuna casserole, anyway,” she said. Then she looked up at Luke. “Do dogs like tuna casserole?”

  Luke chuckled. “Dogs like everything,” he answered. “But most of the time, people food isn’t good for them.”

  “Serena,” Callie said, finally breaking her silence, “go and wash your face and hands and comb your hair. Supper’s ready.”

  Serena paused, tugging at the sleeve of Luke’s long-sleeved western shirt. “Are you going to stay?”

  “I count three places at the table,” Luke assured her. “So I guess I am.”

  Serena gave a whoop of delight and ran for the bathroom.

  “How’s the Linstroms’ cow?” Callie asked, to get the conversation started.

  Luke grinned. “She’ll be all right,” he said. “But you look a little flushed.” He walked over to her, laid the back of his hand to her forehead and assumed a comically ponderous expression. “No fever, though.”

  Callie didn’t answer, because she didn’t know what to say. So much for getting the conversation started.

  Luke leaned in, kissed the tip of her nose. “Relax,” he whispered. “It’s just supper.”

  Callie blushed again. Wished she had something more elegant than tuna casserole to serve. “Nothing fancy,” she said.

  Luke left her to wash his hands at the kitchen sink. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “I think the company is pretty fancy. You look nice, Callie.”

  She’d switched her jeans and T-shirt for a cotton sundress while the casserole was cooking and Serena was napping, and even applied a little lip gloss and mascara. “Thanks,” she answered.

  Five seconds later, Serena was back, hair combed, face and hands scrubbed. Unless Callie missed her guess, she’d even brushed her teeth.

  “All this beauty,” Luke marveled, “is enough to turn a man’s head.”

  Serena beamed. “You’d make a really good dad,” she announced.

  Callie groaned inwardly.

  “And you’d make a really good daughter,” Luke answered.

  “Everybody sit down,” Callie said.

  Everybody sat.

  Callie set the casserole in the middle of the table, along with a salad and some brown-and-serve rolls. During the meal, Serena did most of the talking, while Luke listened attentively, nodding in the appropriate places.

  Callie nibbled at her food and hoped the subject wouldn’t turn to fathers and daughters again. Serena’s longing for a dad was painfully obvious, and Luke couldn’t have helped picking up on it.

  Once they’d eaten, Luke insisted on helping Callie clear the table and wash up the dishes. Serena, meanwhile, escorted Bodine on a guided tour of the little house. Every few moments, she chimed something like, “This is my bedroom!”

  Luke bumped his shoulder against Callie’s. “Hey,” he said. “Relax.”

  “She’s—” Callie lowered her head slightly, and a stray tear slipped down one cheek. “She’s getting her hopes up.”

  Luke lifted sudsy hands out of the dishwater, cupped Callie’s elbows in them and turned her to face him. “And that’s bad?”

  Callie blinked as a defense against more tears. She tried to speak, and found she couldn’t. She’d never been as tongue-tied around anyone else as she was around Luke.

  “It’s okay, Callie.”

  Just then, Serena and Bodine returned.

  Luke let his hands fall back to his sides.

  Callie sniffled once and summoned up a smile.

  “Were you guys kissing?” Serena asked.

  “No,” Callie said.

  Luke merely chuckled.

  “You’d better get ready for bed,” Callie told her daughter. “You’ve had a big day.”

  “I had a nap!” Serena protested, arms folded, lower lip protruding. “And I want to show Luke the Tiger Lily necklace.”

  “Not now,” Callie said.

  But it was too late. Serena had already pulled open the drawer in the breakfront, where Callie kept her tools and supplies, and brought out the piece they had constructed together.

  She carried it proudly to Luke, like a crown on a cushion, and he took a seat at the table to inspect the fine, colorful beadwork.

  “This is beautiful,” Luke said, and when he raised his eyes to meet Callie’s, she saw a tender respect in them. “You and your mom made this?” he asked, turning back to Serena, who was gazing at him in blatant adoration.

  Serena nodded, barely able to contain her delight. “I chose the beads all by myself, and Mom strung them just the way I laid them out on the necklace board.”

  Luke gave a low whistle.

  Serena beamed, then turned uncharacteristically shy. “Could I sit on your lap?”

  “Sure,” Luke said, silently asking Callie’s permission, which she granted with a slight nod.

  He pushed his chair back a little way, and Serena scrambled up. She pointed at the necklace, now lying on the table in front of them.

  “That girl’s name is Tiger Lily. She lives with her mom, Dancing Feather, and they make necklaces together.”

  “Serena,” Callie pleaded softly.

  Serena ignored her, rushing on, no doubt encouraged by the attentive expression on Luke’s face. “They don’t have a dad.”

  “That’s a pity,” Luke said quietly. “Are they lonesome?”

  Serena’s smile was beatific. “They have each other,” she said. “Most of the time, they’re happy.”

  “Well,” Luke responded, “that’s good.”

  “But a dad would be nice,” Serena added hurriedly. “And Tiger Lily wants a brother and sister, too.”

  That was a new one. Serena had never, in Callie’s memory, expressed a desire for siblings.

  “Serena,” Callie said, “say good-night to Dr. Banner and Bodine. It’s time for bed.”

  Callie half expected an all-out rebellion, but Serena only sighed philosophically, stretched to kiss Luke’s cheek and slid off his lap to approach Bodine, who remained at her post near the door.

  “Good night, Bodine,” Serena said. Then, smiling mischievously, she turned to Callie. “Good night, Dancing Feather. You don’t have to tuck me in or tell me a story. I’ll tell myself a story.”

  Callie returned Serena’s smile, but she felt her lips wobbling, and her throat was all tight again. “Night-night, Tiger Lily,” she said.

  Once Serena had left the room, Luke stood. “I guess Bodine and I had better go, too. Bodine’s got babies to feed, and I’ve got some rounds to make in the barn and the clinic.”

  Callie was both relieved and disappointed. She wanted Luke to leave—and she wanted, even more, for him to stay. Unable to voice either of these conflicting desires, she simply stood still, wi
th her back to the sink and her arms folded.

  Luke came to her, kissed her lightly on the lips. “Thanks for a great supper and an even better evening,” he said.

  Callie could only nod.

  “Walk me to the truck?”

  She nodded again.

  Together, they stepped out into the starry night, Bodine following faithfully.

  It wasn’t far to Luke’s truck, and to Callie’s way of thinking, they covered the distance much too quickly. Luke opened the door, and Bodine leaped inside and crossed the console to sit in the passenger seat.

  “You have a wonderful dog,” Callie managed to say. “She didn’t beg once, all through supper.”

  “You have a wonderful daughter,” Luke replied.

  Callie bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry about the story—it was just something we made up while we were working on the necklace—”

  “Now, why would you be sorry, Callie Dorset?”

  She swallowed. “It was pretty transparent,” she said miserably.

  “Serena wants a dad, and she’s set her sights on me.”

  “Yes,” Callie said miserably.

  Luke curved a finger under Callie’s chin and lifted, looking steadily into her eyes. “Kids are honest,” he said. “That’s one of the nineteen million things I love about them.”

  Again, Callie was at a loss for words. Sure, there was something happening between her and Luke, something that might be wonderful, but things had a way of going wrong. Nobody knew that better than she did. And Serena would be crushed.

  Luke drew her close, held her against him for a long moment. Kissed her on top of the head. Then he lifted her chin again.

  “Good night, Dancing Feather,” he said.

  And then he got into his truck, closed the door, started the engine and drove away.

  Callie stood in the yard for a long time after he’d gone, wondering if she dared to dream again.

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

  Three months later…

  Posters advertising the annual Parable Rodeo, to be held at the local fairgrounds, had been all over town for weeks. There were six girls competing for the title of Rodeo Queen, all nice, pretty, accomplished young women, but Callie was secretly rooting for Kristen to win.

  Rain or shine, no matter what else was going on in her busy life, Kristen had come faithfully to the ranch every day after school and on most weekends to help with chores around the new barn. Now that Mahjong had joined Cherokee, along with two other good-natured ponies Luke had named Tiger Lily and Dancing Feather, there was a lot more to do. Callie had tried to share her tips from Happy Dan’s with Kristen several times, grateful for her patient work with the horses, but the girl always refused. When pressed, she insisted that it was all part of her campaign to reign as that year’s queen of the rodeo.

  The contest had become a lot more sophisticated since Callie’s day. She’d won by selling the most raffle tickets–the town had given away a new lawn tractor that year—and the only prizes as queen were fifteen minutes of local fame, a satin sash and a pink western hat banded in rhinestones. These days, there was a hefty scholarship involved, and a year of appearing in parades and at events all over Washington State.

  Now the big day had finally come. The pageant was to be held at the high school gymnasium, and excitement was running high all over Parable. Callie was as nervous as if she’d entered the contest herself, and Happy Dan was closing the café early to attend, even though Parable was overflowing with out-of-towners come to watch or participate in the rodeo that weekend.

  Serena, who had become quite a competent rider under Kristen’s tutelage, as well as Callie’s own, was in such a frenzy she could barely eat her supper. Even when Luke joined her and Callie at the corner booth, she didn’t settle down.

  “What if Kristen doesn’t win?” she demanded in a whisper that carried to every corner of the café. She’d insisted on putting on her best dress first thing that morning, and after hanging out at Happy Dan’s all day, she looked a little bedraggled.

  “Cool it, Tiger Lily,” Luke told her quietly. “It won’t do any good to worry.”

  “But she’s the best!”

  “Serena, eat your cheeseburger,” Callie said.

  “I can’t. Anyhow, I want to save it for Bodine.”

  “Bodine is on a cheeseburger-free diet,” Luke put in. “Eat.”

  Serena nibbled, but presently demanded, for the hundredth time since they’d sat down to supper, “Can we go now?”

  Callie sighed.

  Luke grinned, took Callie’s hand and squeezed it gently. The diamond in her engagement ring bit into her middle finger. “Soon,” he said.

  “You said that hours ago!”

  “Days ago,” Luke agreed. “Weeks. Months. Decades. Eons.”

  “What’s an e-non?”

  Luke looked down at Callie beside him. “About as long as I’ve been in love with your mother,” he answered. He gave her a light, cheeseburger-flavored kiss. A month ago, under a summer moon, he’d asked Callie to marry him, and she’d gladly accepted. After the wedding, which was two weeks away, she and Serena would move to Luke’s place, along with the four horses remaining at her place, and she would operate her fledgling therapeutic riding program from there.

  “Will you always love my mom?” Serena asked. “For e-nons and e-nons?”

  “Always,” Luke promised. “For e-nons and e-nons.”

  “All well and good,” Happy Dan grumbled, after seeing the last few customers out and turning the Open sign in the door to Closed. “But what am I supposed to do without my best waitress?”

  Callie smiled fondly at her boss. Dan had a part-time staff, and she’d been training her permanent replacement, a middle-aged woman named Nellie, for a full week. “I’ll stay until Nellie gets the hang of things,” she said. “I told you that.”

  “About a million times,” Luke added, making a big deal, for Serena’s benefit, of checking his watch. “Well, look at that. Half an hour till the pageant starts. We’d better get over to the gym if we want a decent parking place.”

  “Save me a seat,” Happy Dan said as Luke got out his wallet to pay for the meal. “And put your money away, Doc.”

  Serena had already bolted for the door.

  Luke and Callie slid out of the booth, and Luke paused to lay a hand on Happy Dan’s burly shoulder. “Least I can do is pay for supper, after stealing your favorite waitress,” he said.

  Dan gave one of his rare smiles. “You’re not getting off that easy,” he said. “I’ll expect you to treat my mother’s mean little poodle free for the rest of its crabby little life.”

  “Deal,” Luke said.

  “Come on!” Serena shouted from the door, struggling with the lock.

  They rode to the gym behind the high school in Luke’s extended-cab truck, Serena in the back seat, straining against her seat belt.

  Half the county had turned out for the pageant, it seemed, and the parking lot was practically filled. Luke dropped Callie and Serena off at the front door, parked on the road and sprinted back to join them.

  The gym doubled as an auditorium, and the whole place had been festooned with streamers and balloons, prom-style. Folding chairs covered the basketball court, and all but a few were filled. The school band was tuning up, inharmoniously, by the stage. Callie, Serena and Luke found a spot at the back, and Callie put her purse on a fourth chair, to save it for Happy Dan.

  “We’re too far away!” Serena protested.

  “I’ll make sure you don’t miss anything,” Luke told her. “Fifty cents says you can’t keep quiet—” He checked his watch again “—until they start the national anthem. That’s five whole minutes from now.”

  “You’re on,” Serena replied, and pressed her lips together so tightly that Callie had to laugh.

  Dan joined them just as the band labored into “The Star-Spangled Banner,” and the crowd got to its feet.

  Serena, standing on the seat of
her chair, stuck out her palm, and Luke soberly dropped two quarters into it, conceding defeat. Callie smiled at his sidelong wink and slipped her arm through his.

  The pageant was long.

  Each competitor performed a “talent”—singing, tap dancing, piano playing, baton-twirling, the recitation of a long poem. Finally, Kristen’s turn came, and she brought her little dog on stage to perform the tricks she’d taught him. The audience applauded enthusiastically for everyone—and no one cheered more loudly than Serena. Perched on one of Luke’s shoulders, she clapped and whistled loudly.

  After that came the speeches.

  It was the usual I-want-to-have-lots-of-babies-and-save-the-world-in-my-spare-time stuff, but Callie found it endearing. All the girls were so young, and so sincere.

  Again, Kristen was last.

  “I want to be a veterinarian,” she said, and sat down.

  She certainly deserved the prize for brevity, Callie thought, clapping hard.

  The mayor announced that refreshments would be served in the cafeteria after the pageant, and got in a few precampaign plugs for his reelection while the judges deliberated at their table.

  Finally, the decision was made.

  The town held its collective breath.

  Third runner-up—Susan Farley.

  Second runner-up—Amanda Sue Gentry.

  First runner-up—Dawn Rushmore.

  “And the winner—” the mayor boomed, all but drowned out by a drumroll from the band.

  Callie crossed her fingers.

  “Kristen Young!”

  Applause erupted. Band members tooted horns. Confetti drifted, like snow, from the catwalk over the stage.

  Callie barely restrained herself from jumping up and down for joy. Serena bounced jubilantly on Luke’s shoulder, clapping her hands, and Happy Dan turned to Callie and enfolded her in a crushing bear hug.

  Kristen came forward, smiling tearfully, to accept her sash and the traditional pink western hat, gleaming with rhinestones.

  The mayor consulted a note handed up to him from the judges’ table, waited until the applause subsided a little and cleared his throat.

  “Each of these young women had to write an essay,” he said, “telling why they wanted to be Queen of the Parable Rodeo. All of them did a fine job, but Kristen’s was outstanding. She wrote that she wanted to be queen because it would give her a chance to tell a lot of people about Callie Dorset’s therapeutic riding program. As you may know, Kristen is Callie’s first volunteer, and she helped set up the Web site to raise funds and draw attention to the program. As a community, we’re all proud of Callie’s efforts, and we’re equally proud of Kristen for stepping up the way she has.”