He raked a hand through his hair as he moved toward the food tables. If she’d heard his defense of her, he sure hoped she wasn’t reading anything into it. He’d merely been doing what any decent man would do—taking care of his own.
And like it or not, that included her now.
Callie had mixed emotions later that afternoon as she stood on the porch and watched the day draw to a close. They’d left the reception a little over an hour ago, the buckboard loaded down with not only the luggage from Mrs. Mayweather’s, but also with the choicest leftovers from the reception.
Now everything had been taken into the house, at least as far as the front hall, and the sun was just kissing the horizon.
Jack was somewhere inside. Emma and Annabeth sat on the porch swing playing with Annabeth’s doll. Simon was out in the yard, throwing sticks for both dogs to retrieve.
Callie wrapped her arms around herself. She’d always liked this pre-dusk moment. It was a restful time of day, one that usually brought her a sense of peace and a renewed appreciation for her many blessings.
But the events of this day, and the fact that she’d been on display for most of it, left her drained. Overhearing that bit of conversation hadn’t helped much.
But Jack had defended her, and so deliberately. That was almost as disquieting, though in a different sort of way. It turned all her ideas of him upside down.
But most of all, the thought that she was now responsible for these children, and that she not only shared that responsibility, but also this house, with Jack Tyler—a man she was beginning to see in a new light—left her unsettled and jittery.
No, she wasn’t in any frame of mind right now to appreciate the quiet majesty of the day’s close.
Enough of that kind of thinking. Callie pushed away from the porch rail. There was unpacking to do, and food to sort through and put away. And this being their first night together as a family would mean dealing with everyone getting used to a new routine and new sleeping arrangements.
She turned to the front door, but before she could move further, Jack stepped onto the porch. “I’m going to get the animals settled in for the night.”
“Yes, of course.” She tugged on her bonnet. “I’ve some chores to take care of myself.”
He paused and gave her a long, considering look. “You’ve had a busy day,” he said gruffly. “Whatever you have to do will likely wait until tomorrow.”
His concern surprised her and she smiled. “Thank you, but I’m fine. And I’ll sleep better knowing things are in apple-pie order, as my mother used to say.” She clasped her hands together. “When you come back inside, we can select a Bible verse to read before we get the children ready for bed.”
He merely nodded.
“And you do remember that tomorrow is Sunday?” She didn’t want to be a nag, but it was important that they get off on the right foot in this matter from day one.
An annoyed furrow creased his forehead. “I know what day it is. That’s all the more reason for me to get as many chores done this evening as possible.”
As she watched him cross the yard in ground-eating strides, Callie nibbled at her lower lip. Was she being too pushy? Was there some other approach she should use with him?
It was just so important that they set the proper example for the children. On the other hand, if it was obvious that his heart wasn’t in it, that could do more harm than good.
As promised, Jack read from the family Bible that evening. He asked Callie to pick the verse, and she selected Isaiah 43:18-19. A passage about new beginnings seemed appropriate.
His reading voice was pleasant, strong and authoritative. A bit like the man himself. And he didn’t stumble over the words once. It showed a familiarity with the scriptures she hadn’t expected.
Afterwards, as Jack carried the Bible back to the stand by the window, Callie rose. “Before you children go to bed, I have a surprise for you. Stay where you are and I’ll be right back.”
Callie returned a short time later with four parcels, her insides fluttering. She hoped she had gauged their interests well. “This is the first day of our life together as a family,” she said. “And I thought it would be nice to mark the occasion with something special. So I have a little gift for each of you.”
The children sat up straighter, a gleam of anticipation firing their eyes.
Callie, feeling a bit of anticipation herself, handed the parcels out. She caught the flash of surprise in Jack’s expression as she handed him his. Did he think she would leave him out?
Annabeth opened hers. “It’s a book.”
“That’s right. It’s called The House That Jack Built and it has some wonderful pictures in it.”
Annabeth giggled. “He has the same name as you, Uncle Jack.” She turned the pages, her eyes sparkling in delight at the illustrations. “Will you read it to me?”
“Of course. But let’s save it for when I tuck you in tonight.”
Callie held her breath as Emma slowly unwrapped her parcel. This was the one she’d most looked forward to.
When Emma lifted the lid off the box, her reaction was everything Callie had hoped for.
Her eyes grew round and her mouth formed a little O of surprise. “She’s beautiful.” The words were breathed more than spoken. Emma lifted the doll gently out of the box, smoothing the dress and golden curls. “What’s her name?”
“She doesn’t have one yet. She’s waiting for you to name her.”
Emma squeezed the doll in a fierce hug. “Then I’ll call her Dotty, just like my other doll.”
“That sounds like a perfectly lovely name.”
Annabeth clapped. “Now Tizzy will have a new sister to play with, just like me.”
Emma nodded, then turned to her brother. She gave him a nudge with her shoulder. “Your turn.”
When he didn’t move right away, Annabeth offered her own encouragement. “Don’t you want to see what’s inside? I know I do.”
Simon finally untied the string with a great show of disinterest. Once the paper was removed, he stared at the small wooden box as if uncertain whether or not to open it.
Annabeth prodded him again. “Why do you have to go so slow? Let’s see what it is.”
Simon slid the lid off the box to reveal a neatly arranged group of tiles, each decorated with a series of dots.
“It’s a set of dominos,” Callie explained. “They’re made with real ivory. Have you ever played the game before?”
Simon frowned. “I’ve only ever seen old men playing it over at the mercantile.”
“Well, it is usually played by adults. But I thought, since your Aunt Julia told me what a good student you are, that you might be able to learn it anyway.”
She leaned forward. “But if you don’t want it…”
He moved back slightly, fingering one of the smooth tiles. “This is really ivory?”
Callie nodded. “I found it in a little shop that specializes in items brought to this country from all around the world. The box is made from sandalwood, a tree that grows in India.”
She saw the acceptance in his eyes. Deciding not to press the point, she leaned back. “I’m sure your Uncle Jack has played before. He can teach you how.”
Jack nodded. “Anytime you’re ready.”
Annabeth turned curious eyes toward the last package. “What about you, Uncle Jack? Aren’t you going to open your gift?”
Jack stared at the parcel as if it might blow up in his face. He still hadn’t touched it. With a smile that seemed a bit forced to Callie, he slowly opened it.
He stared at the pocket watch nestled inside for a long minute, then looked at Callie. A small muscle at the corner of his mouth jumped.
Her pleasure in the gift-giving deflated. Something about the watch had upset him. “I know it’s not brand-new. It belonged to my grandfather. If you don’t like it—”
“No, it’s a fine piece,” he said quickly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She’d never heard a less convincing expression of gratitude.
Annabeth popped up from her seat and stood in front of Callie, her lips drawn down in a melodramatic frown. “But we didn’t get you anything.”
Callie forced her thoughts away from Jack’s disappointing reaction, and smiled at the little girl. “Of course you did,” she said, taking both of her hands.
The child’s nose scrunched in confusion. “We did?”
“Most certainly. Don’t you remember?” She released Annabeth’s hands and gave her tummy a gentle poke. “You and Emma picked that beautiful bouquet of flowers for me to carry during the wedding. And Simon drove the carriage to get me there on time.”
She held up her left hand. “And your Uncle Jack gave me this lovely wedding ring. So you see,” She smiled, determined to end their first evening on a happy note, “I’ve had plenty of gifts today.”
Only she had hoped the watch would mean as much to Jack as the ring had meant to her.
Apparently she’d failed.
Chapter Fifteen
While Callie herded the reluctant children upstairs, Jack stepped out on the front porch.
He pulled out his pocketknife and hefted a thick chuck of wood he’d pilfered earlier from the woodpile for just this purpose.
Sitting on the top step, he placed the pocket watch she’d given him on the porch floor beside him. Then he shaved a long thin curl of wood from the block.
Whittling was something he enjoyed doing at the end of the day, or anytime he just needed to be quiet and think. Sometimes he ended up with a whistle or a crude animal shape, but more often than not, he just ended up with a pile of shavings to use as kindling for the cook fire. In fact, even his better carving efforts usually ended up tossed in the fire.
What use did he have for such trinkets?
Married.
He sliced off a particularly thick chunk as he thought about the woman tucking the children in upstairs. The woman he’d vowed just a few hours earlier to cherish and protect until death should part them. The woman he knew next to nothing about.
Except that she was stubborn enough to stand up to him.
And that she genuinely cared about the kids.
And that she seemed dead set on cramming religion down his throat.
What she didn’t understand was that he and God had an understanding of sorts.
For years he’d prayed for all he was worth that God would give him the chance to come into his own, to be something other than Lanny’s not-quite-as-good little brother. He’d prayed even more desperately for Julia to say yes when he’d proposed. None of those prayers had been answered.
And he’d finally realized why. It was because he was so full of jealousy and pride that he wasn’t good enough even for God. At least not so far as being worth His special attention.
That’s when he’d realized that he was the kind of person the adage “God helps those who help themselves” had been penned for.
And it had worked for him so far. He was well-traveled, independent and respected in his field.
Sure, he had a few regrets—not making things right with Lanny was the biggest of them. But there probably wasn’t a man alive who didn’t have regrets of one sort or another.
Jack leaned back against the porch post.
Speaking of regrets…
He glanced down at the pocket watch and winced. His lack of enthusiasm had hurt Callie’s feelings. But trying to explain that accepting a gift she’d selected for Lanny would leave a sour taste in his mouth would have only made matters worse.
Better for both of them that she just think him ungrateful.
Jack ran a thumb over the surface of the wood. He had to hand it to her—passing out those gifts had meant a lot to the kids, especially Nell’s.
Seems his new wife had been quicker than him to see that those kids needed things to call their own, things to help them rebuild their sense of belonging.
Jack planed another long curl from the block of wood. He should have been the one to realize that, to take care of their needs.
Mrs. Mayweather had been right. The kids needed a mother, a mother like Callie.
The question was, was he the right man to play the role of their father?
The door opened behind him.
“The children are all settled in for the night.”
And why aren’t you? “Good.” Kicking himself for not putting away the watch, Jack kept his voice even and his attention focused on whittling.
She took a few steps forward, halting just behind him. “I think today was a really good start.”
He glanced over his shoulder and gave her a long, steady look. After a minute, he went back to his whittling. “Today was merely recess. Tomorrow the real work begins.”
“I agree. And I’m ready.”
“Are you now?”
Her sigh conveyed a sense of sorely tried patience. “Mr. Tyler, I—”
“Jack.” He glanced up and saw her confused frown. “We’re married. Might as well use first names.”
“Very well. Jack, I know you think I’m too green for farm work, but with you to teach me, and God to help me, I’m certain I can learn what I need to.”
“Then I suggest you turn in. Your lessons start tomorrow, which means you’ll need to be up before sunrise in the morning.”
“But tomorrow is Sunday.”
“Lesson number one. The animals don’t know what day of the week it is. They still need to be fed, the cows milked, the eggs gathered.” He pointed his block of wood in her general direction. “And that’s in addition to fixing breakfast and getting the kids ready for church service.”
“Very well.” He heard the swish of skirts as she turned. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Twenty minutes later, Jack turned down the bedside lamp in his room and plopped onto the mattress, his fingers laced behind his head. It wasn’t exactly the cozy marriage bed a man normally slid into on his wedding night.
Not that he wanted it any other way. This whole marriage thing had happened way too fast. This might have been their only option, but he still felt as if he’d been backed into a corner.
He rolled over on his side and punched his pillow into shape. He’d keep up his end of this bargain.
She’d have to be satisfied with that.
Callie slipped under the covers in the four poster bed that had been Julia and Leland’s. She’d heard Jack come upstairs a few moments ago and she felt guilty enjoying the comfort of this large bedchamber while he made do with the smaller bed in the room across the hall.
But he’d insisted on those arrangements, arguing that in a month or so he planned to be gone anyway, and that the spare room accommodations were a step up from what he was used to while on the job.
Much as he would deny it, the man really did have a kind heart beating somewhere under that gruff exterior of his.
Too bad he didn’t let it show more often.
His insistence that she would have a difficult time with the farm chores was worrisome. Surely he was being overly-pessimistic. She could make this work. She had to.
After all, wasn’t this where God intended her to be?
Jack had been as good as his word when it came to the family bible reading. Though he’d asked her to pick out the verse, he’d done the reading himself and then asked Simon to lead them in prayer afterward.
Her heart warmed at the thought that God might be using her to help Jack find his way back.
Dear Heavenly Father, help me to be the sort of example You desire me to be.
And with that, she snuggled down into her pillow. But thoughts of Jack’s insistence that he’d be moving on in a month or so made it hard for her to find the easy slumber she’d hoped for.
Chapter Sixteen
Callie woke to the sound of someone tapping at her door. Glancing toward the window through slitted lids, she saw a glimmering of gray pushing out the black of night. It was dawn, way too early to—
D
awn! Her sluggish brain suddenly flared to life.
Oh no! She’d overslept. Callie popped upright and tried to untangle herself from the covers. “I’m awake,” she called out.
“Good.” Jack’s tone was dry, as if he could see her frantic rush to get out of bed. “Meet me in the barn when you get dressed.”
Finally kicking off the covers, Callie quickly made her morning ablutions and dressed. She was still tying the strings to her bonnet as she hurried down the stairs, determined that their first full day together go as smoothly as possible.
As she passed through the kitchen she noted that the stove had already been stoked. Jack must have been up and about for some time.
Her guilt for oversleeping deepened a notch.
She quickened her pace as soon as she stepped outside, and fought the urge to pause when she stepped off the back porch. Normally she’d take an extra second or two to appreciate God’s exquisite handiwork in the first glimmerings of sunrise. But today she’d have to admire it on the run. Already a blush of color seeped past the horizon, reminding her that time was slipping away.
Lifting her skirts, Callie sprinted across the last few dew-dampened yards toward the barn. She arrived breathless and all but stumbled across the threshold.
Jack sat on a stool, already at work milking one of the cows. He spared the briefest of glances over his shoulder, then went back to work.
“I apologize for oversleeping.” Though how one could call it oversleeping when you were up before sunrise…
He ignored her apology. “I’m almost finished milking Belle.” He nodded toward the other stall. “As soon as I’m done, I’ll let you try your hand at milking Clover.”
Feeling duly chastised, Callie nodded. Curious, she moved closer so she could watch Jack at work.
It didn’t look so hard. He merely squeezed on the cow’s teats and the milk squirted into the bucket. The animal stood placidly eating from a waist-high mounted feed trough while Jack worked. The animal didn’t even seem to notice what Jack was doing, much less mind.
The Hand-Me-Down Family Page 12