The Secret Bliss of Calliope Ipswich

by McClure, Marcia Lynn

  “The Morrison brothers tried to kill me a while back,” he began.

  “What?” Calliope gasped. She was horrified at the thought that anyone in the world would want to kill Rowdy Gates, let alone try to kill him.

  “It’s true,” Rowdy assured her, however. “It was a couple of years back. I was livin’ in Texas, near my mama and daddy’s place. And one day the Morrison brothers rode in lookin’ to get me to join up with them…start outlawin’.”

  Calliope’s eyes widened with terrified awe. “They did?”

  Rowdy nodded. “They did,” he answered. “My mama…she was killed that day. She jumped in front of my daddy when Arness Morrison tried to shoot him.”

  “Rowdy! I-I’m so sorry,” Calliope said in a whisper. She wondered what had happened to the gladness she had felt only moments before. Where had the flirting between them gone? How had their conversation out under a lovely moonlit, starry sky turned to the murder of his mother at the hands of an outlaw?

  But he was thinking back now—she could see it in his eyes—the pain of a tragic past. And so she listened as he continued, “Then Arness told Carson Morrison to rope me, and he did. I was standin’ there—watchin’ my daddy leanin’ over my mama and beggin’ her to come back to him—so I didn’t see the lasso comin’ until it was already around me. The Morrison brothers gave me a beatin’ that I thought was the end of me. But it wasn’t. So they tied me tighter and drug me behind their horses for about a mile, I think, before Arness Morrison shot me twice. They rode off and left me to die. I remember bein’ so hurt that I was almost numb to the pain. I remember the sun bein’ so bright overhead and thinkin’ that I hoped heaven would take the misery away.”

  He paused, and Calliope wiped tears from her cheeks.

  “Oh, don’t cry, pretty girl,” Rowdy said, grinning with sympathy and reassurance. “It was a long while back.”

  Calliope continued to weep, however, for it was a horrid story. Furthermore, she well knew that Rowdy was only skimming the top of it. She knew that what he was telling her didn’t begin to describe the terrifying truth of it.

  “Your leg,” she managed to sniffle, “the leg you started lighting the lamps to heal.”

  Rowdy nodded. “Yep. That beatin—or the draggin’ afterward, I don’t know which—broke a lot of things in my body. My stiff leg was the somethin’ that took the longest to heal.”

  Calliope brushed more tears from her cheeks. “But…but how did you…how did you survive? Did your daddy come lookin’ for you?”

  But Rowdy’s eyes narrowed. “Nope,” he said. “The Morrison brothers had doubled back when they thought they’d killed me. They doubled back and…”

  “Killed your daddy,” Calliope finished for him.

  Rowdy nodded. He swallowed hard, obviously struggling to keep his emotions in check. Then he said, “It was Dodger. It was ol’ Dodger that saved me.”

  “Your dog?” Calliope asked. “So he was your dog before…before the Morrison brothers.”

  “No,” Rowdy said, however. “I was lyin’ there in that hot Texas sun, just parched and swelterin’ and ridin’ in and out of consciousness, when all of a sudden I felt somethin’ rough and wet on my face. It woke me up a bit, and I saw it was this big old mutt of a dog. He was lickin’ my face and my wounds and whimperin’ somethin’ awful.” Rowdy paused and chuckled a bit at the memory.

  He looked to Calliope and said, “It was Dodger. I’d never seen him before that day. Not around town, not on any nearby farms…nowhere. He just appeared outta the desert and started lickin’ my face.”

  “Maybe he was an…” Calliope began. But then she realized how ridiculous what she was about to say would sound.

  Nevertheless, Rowdy grinned at her and finished her thought, “You mean, an angel?”

  Calliope blushed and nodded her confirmation.

  Rowdy nodded as well and said, “It’s an interestin’ notion that I’ve considered many times myself.”

  “So Dodger found you, and…and he…he what? Led you home?” Calliope prodded.

  “Actually, he run a couple a miles up the way to another farm and managed to cause a big enough ruckus that an old farmer followed him back to me.” Rowdy paused and smiled at Calliope, though his eyes remained sad. “It’s another reason I wondered for a while if Dodger was an angel. What man in his right mind would follow a stray, barkin’ dog for two miles just to see what the fuss was? Most folks woulda just shot him, thinkin’ he was loco with rabies or somethin’.”

  Calliope didn’t know what to say. She was stunned—nearly in a state of shock by what Rowdy had just revealed. She well remembered the day her mother and little infant brother had died. Even though she’d been very young when her mother was lost, the excruciating pain still pierced her heart whenever she thought of her mother’s death. How could a man endure such a thing as Rowdy had endured? Seeing his mother shot before his very eyes? Being beaten by outlaws? Dragged for a mile through the desert, shot twice? And then to return home to find his father had been killed as well?

  It was surreal! Did such horrible things really happen? Yet she knew they did. And she didn’t need to witness those horrors with her own eyes, for the stories her father told of experiences of his profession were proof enough.

  Calliope stared at Rowdy. “H-how did you come through it all?” she whispered.

  Rowdy shrugged. “God,” he answered. “And that stray dog of an angel he sent to me.”

  Calliope straightened her posture. She brushed more tears from her eyes and sniffled. She was determined not to completely melt into a puddle of sympathetic despair. “And that’s how you recognized the outlaw’s appaloosa in town,” she stated.

  “Yep.”

  Calliope, still determined not to burst into sobbing, did manage a confession of her own. “I’ll never get over that story, Rowdy,” she said. She looked to him, forcing a comforting grin. “Thank you for telling me.”

  Rowdy quirked a doubtful eyebrow. “Why on earth would you thank me for tellin’ you all that mess, Calliope?”

  It had happened. In the space of one sharing of a deep, painful secret, Calliope noted that she and Rowdy had ceased in referring to one another as Miss Calliope and Mr. Gates. The fact of it warmed her heart more than he could ever know—even for the pain she felt at what he had endured and overcome.

  “Because…because I like to think it means you trust me,” she told him.

  “Why wouldn’t I trust you?” he asked. The pain was evaporating from his beautiful green eyes to be replaced by mischief and gladness as he looked at her.

  “Well, you don’t know me too well yet, now do you?” she asked.

  “I know you much better than you think,” he said, grinning at her.

  “Oh really?” she challenged.

  He nodded. “Yes, really. In fact, I know much more about you than you know about me,” he stated.

  But Calliope giggled. “Oh, believe me, you most certainly do not.”

  “I’ll wager that I do,” he countered.

  Calliope’s eyebrows arched in amused disbelief. “You’ll wager that you do, is it?”

  “I will,” Rowdy insisted. “Name your price, pretty Ipswich girl,” he said. “Name your price…and then we’ll get to it.”

  For some reason, Calliope found herself staring at the man’s mouth—studying the shape of his lips—lingering on the memory of his kiss.

  “All right, Rowdy Gates,” she said. “I’ll trade you one of my secrets for one of yours. If you already know my secret, then I lose. And if I already know the secret you choose to reveal, you lose.”

  He smiled. “And what do I get when I win?”

  Calliope giggled. She liked the smoldering expression of desire she could see in his eyes as his attention lingered on her mouth.

  “When I win, then I’ll tell you what I want from you,” she countered.

  “Deal,” he agreed.

  “All right then, tell me your secret, Rowdy,” Calli
ope flirted. She leaned closer to him.

  “I’m kinda gettin’ the short end of the stick here, now that I think about it,” he said, however. “I mean, I already told you one secret that you didn’t know. So now let me think a minute, ’cause I gotta come up with somethin’ else.”

  “Take your time,” she said, once more allowing her gaze to settle on his mouth.

  Rowdy could hardly control himself! He wanted to kiss Calliope with every thread holding him together. In fact, he wanted to do more than kiss her; he wanted her completely!

  Reining in his desires, however, he said, “All right, here I go. Did you know this about me—that I own the gristmill?”

  He chuckled when her bright blue eyes widened, perfectly catching the moonlight and looking like two radiant sapphires.

  “What?” she exclaimed. “You bought the gristmill from Mr. Mulholland?”

  Rowdy’s smile broadened. He had her! She hadn’t known that he’d been the one who had gained ownership of the mill when Ben Mulholland had to leave Meadowlark Lake.

  “I did,” he confirmed triumphantly. He knew so much about Calliope—for he’d been watching her and studying her for months! “I bought it and kept the fact to myself, so I could still work there as the foreman and so the townsfolk wouldn’t know I had enough money to buy it.”

  Calliope’s pretty brows furrowed. “How did you have enough money to buy it?” she asked.

  “Ah ah ha,” Rowdy scolded, wagging an index finger at her. “That would take me revealin’ another secret about myself. And we agreed to one secret for one secret. And besides, you already have two on me now.”

  Calliope giggled. “All right. I’ll admit that I did not know you owned the mill,” she said.

  “So I get to tell you what I want now that I won our wager?” he teased.

  “No, not yet,” she needlessly reminded him. “I still get to tell you one secret and see if you know it about me.”

  “Fine,” Rowdy said. “Try me, pretty girl. But I’m warnin’ you—I’ve been watchin’ you for a long, long time.”

  “Really?” Calliope sighed, overwhelmed with sudden bliss at Rowdy’s revealing he’d been watching her.

  Rowdy nodded, answering, “Yes, ma’am. Try me.”

  Calliope bit her lip. It was a rather difficult task. After all, Calliope didn’t keep a whole lot of secrets; it just wasn’t in her nature. The only one she could think of was the one she’d been keeping about Rowdy—that she loved him—and had loved him for a very long time.

  But then it struck her—a secret she could share with him that she knew he would never have guessed at. Furthermore, it would begin to reveal to him the depth of her feelings for him, without her having to say out loud that she loved him.

  “Very well,” she began. She found that it was hard to confess the fact to him, for she did feel foolish in having brought him harm. “You remember when you saved me…when we fell from the upper bank of the millpond?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  Calliope frowned as she glanced to the wound still healing on Rowdy’s cheek. She figured that she owed him what she was about to tell him. After all, he’d risked his life to save her.

  “Well, I wasn’t just out walking that day,” she confessed. “I went to the mill with the sole intention of getting a glimpse of you. I was looking through a loose board when the pigeons did their business on your shirt. It was only when you took your shirt off in planning to rinse it out that I realized you might see me, and I tried to hurry away…pretending that I was out for a walk and—”

  She didn’t even know how she’d ended up there, but in an instant, Calliope was cradled in Rowdy’s arms as his mouth claimed hers in such a driven kiss that it nearly smothered her. Over and over he kissed her. And over and over she returned his kisses—drowning in bliss, swept away in euphoria!

  For a moment, Rowdy broke the seal of their mouths, still holding her in his arms as he gazed down into her eyes. Calliope saw the depth of emotion in him—the green windows that opened to reveal his soul as he looked at her.

  “Y-you already knew what I was going to ask for when I won the wager,” she whispered. “I-I wanted you to kiss me again.”

  He grinned at her—lovingly grinned at her, and her bliss was multiplied a hundredfold.

  “But you didn’t win the wager,” he mumbled against her mouth. “I did. And now I’m collectin’ my winnin’s while I can.”

  Calliope’s heart was pounding so hard within her chest! Her breath was labored as she pushed herself from the cradle of Rowdy’s arms only long enough for him to follow his own instincts and pull her to her feet with him.

  As his arms entwined about her, Calliope melted to Rowdy even more completely than she had the night before when he’d kissed her. Any tentative, careful way he’d held or kissed her the previous night had vanished. Likewise, something in Calliope felt free of restraint. She found that there was no timidity left in her where Rowdy Gates was concerned—for she knew by the way he held her, as if she were a rare possession, that he truly cared for her. She knew by the way he kissed her—as if he thirsted for her somehow, or could never satisfy his hunger for her—that he cared for her.

  In the midst of their exchange of affections, it came to her mind that he had confessed to having watched her for months, and she wondered—had he dreamed of her the way she’d dreamed of him?

  He took her face between his strong hands and gazed at her a moment. “You know, I think I’ll ask your daddy for permission to do more than just escort you to that weddin’ you’re plannin’.”

  Calliope’s heart leapt in her chest. Did he mean to ask her father his permission to marry her?

  “Y-you do?” she managed.

  Rowdy nodded. “I do. I plan to ask your father if he’ll let me do what he refused to let that idiot Fox Montrose do. I want to court you proper, Calliope. Would that be all right with you?”

  A slight whiff of disappointment traveled through her at his not wanting to ask her father for permission to wed her. But she quickly realized that courting was only the necessary precursor to marriage—wasn’t it?

  “It would be far more than all right with me, Rowdy,” she whispered. “I think you know that by now.”

  “Well then, would it also be all right if I kissed you the way I’m thinkin’ of kissin’ you right now?” he asked.

  Calliope frowned, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  But her question was answered in a heartbeat as Rowdy’s kiss was even more affecting than it had been, for his mouth descended to hers—open, warm, and intimate. Every other thought, every other vision was forced from Calliope’s mind as Rowdy Gates kissed her the way he’d apparently been thinking of kissing her—and it was extraordinary in the rapturous sensations it sent bursting through her!

  As she’d dreamt all those months past of kissing Rowdy, she’d never imagined it would be such thoroughgoing ecstasy as it was. His arms around her, the feel of his firm torso against her, the warm flavor of his kiss that she knew was unique to only him—all of it was far more than she’d ever conceived possible!

  Calliope caressed his square, whiskery jaw and thrilled at the feel of it moving to work a kiss that so affected her as to sending thoughts through her mind of surrendering to him wholly. Rowdy was kissing her! It couldn’t be real!

  But it had been real. Hours later as Calliope lay in her bed tossing and turning for want of being in Rowdy’s arms again—of being in his arms forever—she knew their time in the grassy expanse between her home and the woods beyond was real. The lingering sensation of his mouth melded with hers proved it to her over and over again, and it was now another secret bliss Calliope Ipswich owned. A secret that she shared with Rowdy Gates.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Oh, these invitations are beautiful!” Dora Montrose exclaimed. “Amoretta certainly does have lovely penmanship.”

  “Yes, she does,” Evangeline confirmed. “I’m so glad she was willing to write ou
t all the invitations.”

  Calliope handed the Gardeners’ invitation to Blanche’s mother, Judith. “We thought we’d hand them out right away. Most people in town already know we’re having the event, but we want everyone to have their pretty invitation as soon as possible.” She offered the Ackermans’ invitation to Ellen. “After all, they’re so wonderful, and Amoretta worked very hard. They’re meant to be enjoyed as well as to invite.”

  “Oh, this is gonna be so much fun!” Ellen exclaimed, accepting the Ackermans’ invitation as Calliope handed it to her. She glanced around the barn for a moment, adding, “And the barn will be simply transformed by the time we’re all finished decorating it.”

  “Yes,” Josephine Chesterfield agreed. “I can already imagine. And Mr. Longfellow did such a wonderful job buildin’ the stage platform.” Josephine exhaled a sigh of satisfaction as she then looked to Calliope and Evangeline and said, “Thank you girls so much! I was so worried when we first moved here—that we wouldn’t be happy for some reason or other. But you Ipswich girls…” She paused, glancing to everyone in the barn in turn. “All of you, you’ve all been so welcomin’ and so willin’ to include us in everything. Thank you all so very much.”

  “We’re just ever so glad your family moved to Meadowlark Lake, Mrs. Chesterfield,” Calliope assured the woman. “We would never have been able to cast the Tom Thumb wedding so perfectly if your family hadn’t moved here and provided so many character parts and help. You see? You were meant to be our friends!”