by Janet Dean
“I’ve heard of women having ten-pound babies.” He glanced at her petite frame. “It could be difficult to—”
She laid her fingers across his lips. “When did you become such a worrywart?”
He wasn’t. Normally. When had Callie become his world?
He tugged her to him. She laid her head against his shoulder and snuggled close. Jake rested his chin on her forehead and soaked up the peace he felt at having her near. With Callie in his arms, life’s concerns faded. All felt right with the world. This is where she belonged.
“Callie.” She glanced up at him with those startling sea-blue eyes of hers. “I care about you—”
Abruptly, she broke away, clearly avoiding his declaration. “I’d better get that water,” she said, not meeting his gaze.
Everything that had softened inside him, hardened. Callie didn’t want him. He couldn’t blame her. “I’ll get it.”
Jake followed her upstairs, carrying a hissing teakettle and a steaming pot by the handle. Outside Elise’s bedroom door, he handed them over to Callie. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
“Pray all goes well and this baby arrives soon. Elise is tired.” She sighed, no doubt remembering he wasn’t a praying man. That sigh nearly did him in.
Jake knew one thing he could do. He raced down the stairs and strode out the front door, all feelings of abandonment inside him shoving to the surface. He’d do what he could to ensure Langley didn’t abandon Elise.
At his knock, Mark Langley opened the door, looking as lost as Jake felt. “Is Elise all right?”
“The baby hasn’t arrived yet. Callie says it’s normal for babies to take their time coming.”
Her father nodded, but didn’t look comforted. Obviously, he cared for his daughter. But what about that child she would bring into the world?
“I’m here to tell you what it’s like to spend your childhood in an orphanage.” Then, not waiting for Mr. Langley’s permission, he proceeded to do so. When he finished, he looked deep into Langley’s eyes. “Be a father to your daughter. Be a grandfather to her child. The only thing you have to lose is your pride. If you don’t, you’ll lose everything that matters.”
Without a word, Langley headed for the door. Jake had to hurry to catch up.
In Callie’s parlor, Elise’s father perched on the edge of a dainty chair. “Thanks for telling me about your childhood. It’s got me thinking about a lot of things—”
A shriek from above brought him to his feet. “What’s taking so long?” Pacing the rug like a caged coyote, he rubbed a hand over his eyes. “If anything happens to that girl, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“She’ll be all right.” Jake gulped. She had to be.
Langley stopped and looked at Jake. “Things aren’t good between us. Haven’t been in a long time. I wanted a boy,” he said, choking out the words. “Never could relate to Elise and all that girly stuff. I loved her…but didn’t show it much.” He shuddered. “I wonder if I drove her into that scalawag’s arms.”
Langley feared his daughter had fallen for a smooth-talker to fill the void of a distant father. Jake had expected families to be warm, loving, supportive, never failing one another. He’d seen that few people had picture-perfect families. Yet they managed to go on and forge their way, hopefully as Elise and her father would do.
Langley went on pacing. “I couldn’t deal with Elise having a baby.” He sighed. “My baby having a baby. Just couldn’t take that in. I wanted the problem to go away. That’s how I saw the baby—as a problem.”
“It’s not too late to set things right between you and Elise. She’s a generous, forgiving person.”
“I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have.”
“What about the baby?”
The eyes he turned on Jake filled with misery. “That’s my grandchild Elise is bringing into this world. A baby, not some shame I can shun.” His voice broke. “Elise and I got to the point that I couldn’t figure out how to mend things.”
Jake would give anything if he had a relationship with his parents. Even with all that had happened. Even with the hurts he’d buried inside. If he ever found them, and they showed him one bit of interest, he’d forgive their abandonment. Family mattered. Families stuck by one another. Families worked it out.
“Just be there,” Jake said. “Be there when Elise needs you most.”
Another shriek, then another and another until the air all but vibrated with Elise’s cries. Both men froze. Then they heard the high-pitched wail of a baby that sounded so hopping mad, Jake couldn’t help but chuckle.
Mark Langley’s face lit up. “It’s here.”
Jake shook his hand. “Maybe that boy you always wanted.”
Elise’s father shook his head. “I hope it’s a girl. If it is, I’ll show her girls are special. That is, after I show her mother.”
Callie appeared in the parlor and stopped at the sight of Mr. Langley, her wide-eyed surprise changing to a huge smile. She motioned for the two of them to follow her upstairs.
The door to Elise’s bedroom opened. Doc left the room, carrying his medical bag. “Elise and the baby are fine. You’re a grandfather of a healthy baby girl.”
“Thanks, Doc. Thanks for taking care of my girls,” Langley said, in a shaky voice.
Callie ushered them inside. Elise sat propped up in bed, her face weary but wearing a stunning smile, her baby tucked in a yellow blanket and wrapped in her arms.
Mrs. Langley sat beside the bed. “Mark,” was all she said, but Jake heard more in that word than an entire sermon on forgiveness.
Mr. Langley walked to his daughter. “I’m sorry, Elise, for everything I’ve said. Can you forgive me?”
“You’re here, Papa. You came.” Elise’s voice strangled with tears. “You came when I needed you most.” She pulled back the blanket to expose all of her baby’s face, reposed in sleep during this momentous family reunion. “Meet your granddaughter, Kathryn Marie Langley.”
Mr. Langley caressed the baby’s face with one finger. “She’s beautiful, Elise. Like her mother.”
“Oh, Papa.”
Elise laid the precious bundle beside her on the bed and lifted her hands to her father.
Mark Langley wept in her arms.
Callie led Jacob through the hedge to Mildred’s, the only person they trusted who might remember the young man from the wrong side of the tracks who could’ve courted Irene Squier.
Mildred ushered them into her parlor. “Have a seat.”
Every surface, shelf and chair was stacked with books and keepsakes. Not unusual these days while Mildred spent endless hours going through mementoes. All treasures Callie knew, but from the shocked expression on Jacob’s face, he saw nothing but junk. Callie picked up a stack of books on one end of the sofa and set them on the floor.
With an apologetic smile, Mildred cleared books from the other end. “You’ll have to excuse the mess. I’m going through things, trying to cull them out, but…” She picked up a McGuffey’s reader and opened the cover. “This belonged to my husband. Has his name right here.” She looked away. “It’s hard to let go.”
Callie understood the difficulty of letting go. Not with things, but with loved ones. Jacob had difficulty letting go of a past that affected him still.
“I’ll get refreshments,” Mildred said, then left the room.
Jake leaned toward Callie. “A house this size no doubt has a library. Isn’t it large enough to hold her collection of books?”
“Like she said, she’s been going through things. I think all these keepsakes make her feel closer to her husband.” She sighed. “Now you can see why her cleaning lady quit. Grace will do the job as long as she can. Her way of helping with expenses.”
Mildred returned, carrying a tray with three glasses of lemonade and a plate of those gingersnap cookies she loved. Callie shoved aside a box of postcards on the table to make room for the tray.
Mildred cleared the chair of toda
y’s newspaper and plopped down. “You’re here for more than my cookies,” she said. “Anyone with ears knows about your time in jail, Jake.” She offered him the plate. “I’d like to hear your version.”
After he explained, Mildred leaned toward him. “Life’s not fair, plain and simple. But you hold your head up. In time, people will lose interest.”
“Perhaps, but my past is tainting Callie’s reputation and giving this town another reason to turn against her.”
Mildred cocked her head at him. “Why not tell me why you’re in Peaceful, Jake?” She raised a hand. “Better yet, let me guess. Considering how many times you’ve asked questions about the women in this town, about the Squier family, especially their daughter, Irene, I suspect you came here looking for your mother.”
He met her gaze. “Yes.”
“Why did you believe your mother was in Peaceful?”
Jacob told her about the postcards.
“Have you found her?”
“That’s why we’re here, Mildred. We found a few references in newspaper gossip columns that could be a clue. The columns suggest a young man from the wrong side of the tracks courted a young lady on Serenity. We’re hoping that was Irene. Do you know who that young man might have been?”
Mildred munched a cookie, then leaned back, closing her eyes, hopefully deep in thought, not nodding off as she was prone to do. Her eyes popped open. “The wrong side of the tracks is easy enough. The folks with money lived on this side. Folks south of those tracks lived in small bungalows, a few in shanties.” She furrowed her brow, staring at her shoes, as if the name of the young man was written on the toes. “What year was that?”
“Most likely the fall and winter of ’76.”
“That explains it. The reason I don’t recall Irene having a suitor is my husband took sick about that time. He died a few months later, that next spring. I spent every moment at his bedside. I wouldn’t have noticed if Irene had spooned with a young man on her front porch—or on mine for that matter. I’m sorry. I wish I could’ve been more help.”
Disappointment sank to Callie’s belly. “You were a wonderful wife, Mildred. Everyone said so.”
“I hope you figure it out. Maybe talk to the folks south of town.” She nailed Jacob with her gaze. “I’ve got a question for you. Are you planning to run? Or stick with Callie here?”
The shocked look on Jacob’s face said it all.
Mildred harrumphed. “Don’t let a little gossip direct your steps. Let me tell you, Jake, God expects better of you.”
“God doesn’t know me.”
“Ha! You’ve got lots to learn, my young friend. Stay put. Open your heart to God. You’re in for the ride of a lifetime.”
Callie had come hoping to learn more about Irene Squier. Instead, Mildred had tried badgering Jacob into faith and into caring for Callie. Callie knew what Mildred had forgotten. Before a man could ride, he had to be willing to get in the saddle.
Jake sat in Callie’s parlor holding Elise’s baby against his chest. Inside the blanket, the poor little thing drew her knees up, screeching like an alley cat in a midnight skirmish. And Jake didn’t know the first thing about comforting her. He’d never even held a baby before.
Not that he planned to hold this one for long. He’d come in from feeding the stock and surely didn’t smell good enough to hold a newborn baby. But, with Callie off to a prayer meeting and Grace holed up in her room, Elise had come to him, close to tears from walking the floor with Katie.
He couldn’t turn her down. Not after she gazed up at him with exhausted eyes and asked for his help, as if he knew the first thing about babies. He’d taken the tyke into his arms as gingerly as an explosive device with a short fuse and sent Elise off to bed.
Elise surprised Jake by staying at Callie’s after she and her father had made peace, hoping Katie Marie would soften Grace’s heart toward her baby. But Grace avoided the newborn. Even took food to her room if the baby showed up at meals.
How could she not open her heart to this baby? Katie Marie was perfect. Helpless. Tiny. And madder than a hen with a broken beak.
Patting her back, Jake walked the floor, swaying with her. Not enough to hurt her. He hoped. He kept patting. Kept walking. Every muscle tense.
What if he hurt her?
What if something was wrong?
Should he get Doc?
Where was Callie? How long could one person pray?
“Looks like you could use some help.”
Callie stood in the parlor smiling at him. The relief of having her there washed through him clear to his toes.
An explosion erupted from Katie’s mouth. A belch of gigantic proportions, one a teenage boy would be proud of, was followed by a stream of curdled milk that dampened his shirt, and an odor that left him gagging. Surely that couldn’t have come from this dainty creature.
But the baby kept on crying, as if her little heart would break and Jake felt like joining her.
With an amused smile, Callie took Katie Marie from his arms, easing the baby into the crook of her arm and cooed softly to her, then tucked the baby up against her middle, swaying to the rhythm of some unsung lullaby. Immediately Katie quieted. Her eyelids drifted closed. She slept.
Callie sat on the sofa. Jake sank beside her as wrung out as an old dishrag. “I’m thankful you got home when you did.” He grabbed the cloth Elise had left with him and dabbed the milk from Katie’s rosebud lips, then mopped his clothes. “You’re a natural mother.”
“You were managing just fine.”
Jake knew better. Commodore had said Jake wasn’t cut out for fatherhood. He hadn’t doubted Commodore’s assessment. His failure to soothe Katie had added further evidence.
Callie lifted her gaze to him. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
“She is.”
Jake touched the soft folds of the baby’s neck, ran a finger over the silky strands of her hair and along a tiny fuzzy ear. Katie emitted a soft sigh and snuggled deeper into the yellow blanket, a picture of contentment, tugging at his heart with a strength that left him dazed.
This precious infant would grow up without a father. Something hot flared inside him. Better to have no father than a bad one. At least she’d have one good parent.
“I can’t wait to hold my baby,” Callie murmured, ending on a soft sigh.
“Your baby is blessed to have you as a mother.”
She smiled at him, beamed really. “Thank you, Jacob. I want what’s best for my child.”
“What’s best for your child isn’t me.”
“Oh, you worry too much. Few feel up to the task of parenthood.” She chuckled. “What’s best for this little one is her bed. I’ll put her down.”
As Jake watched them go, tears stung the back of his eyes. Callie hadn’t understood what he’d tried to tell her. Even as the admission stabbed like a knife to his heart, the truth was undeniable. Callie’s baby needed a good father. How could Jake be such a thing when he’d had no role model? He’d heard enough from Pastor Steele’s sermons to know a husband should lead his family. Yet Jake lacked the faith that would help guide a child and head a home.
The harsh truth of his incompetence sank inside him. He had to walk away. Leave this house. Leave the ministry to unwed mothers. Leave Callie. Leave everything and everyone who had become important to him. He’d vowed to toughen himself against caring, against opening his heart—
He’d failed. Callie Mitchell had his heart. He’d found what he’d been looking for all his life. Nothing in his past had prepared him for his feelings for this woman. Her presence made the bleakest day beautiful, the toughest task easy, and the most monotonous day exciting. She was merciful. Kind. Generous. Everything good.
He loved Callie. Completely, totally.
Only a few days old and Katie Marie had already taught Jake Smith a thing or two. He hadn’t had a family. Never knew the privilege of sharing a home or of having the support of loved ones, but this baby had given him a peek at the re
sponsibilities of fatherhood.
He wasn’t fit to raise a child. To love this woman. Especially in a town that would never accept him.
He’d never tell Callie he loved her. If he did, it would be asking her to choose him over what was best for her child.
Even a faithless jailbird wouldn’t stoop that low.
Chapter Eighteen
Wind howled in the trees, whipping the limbs into a frenzied dance. Rain pelted the windows, striking the glass with the clatter of hail. Callie prayed a tornado wasn’t brewing and heading their way. Jacob had raced to Mildred’s to cover a leak in her roof with a tarpaulin. Yet, even with nature blowing up a tempest, her house was sturdy and would weather the storm.
Katie Marie’s cry drifted down the staircase. Within minutes, she quieted. Her needs met by Elise. Remembering the way Jacob had handled the newborn last night, holding her like a piece of crystal, as if she’d break, Callie smiled. His tender, awed expression proved he was smitten with the baby. He would be a good husband, a wonderful father.
For someone. Not for her.
What’s best for your baby isn’t me.
Jacob’s statement didn’t sink in—at first—but it hadn’t taken Callie long to realize he meant every word.
She’d prayed and prayed for Jacob to come to God. Though she’d seen a change in his attitude in church and he’d acknowledged reading the Bible, he hadn’t taken that step. And from his own mouth he’d dispelled the prospect of that changing.
He shared her concern for unwed mothers, understood her troubled background. She’d had hope that he might be part of God’s plan for her life. But she and her baby needed a God-fearing man to lead their home. God would not send her a man without faith.
A knock at her door jarred her out of her thoughts. Who would be out on such a night? Whoever braved this weather was getting drenched. She hurried to answer it.
On the other side of the door stood a stranger wearing a long navy macintosh over his suit, lowering a silk umbrella. She shivered in the damp, chilly wind.
The man tipped his bowler, revealing his pate, bald and pale as a peeled onion. She noted the case in his hand. Surely even the most ambitious salesman wouldn’t be out in this weather. “I’m sorry, but whatever you’re selling—”