She turned her gaze upward, studying the stars. “No, we made a bargain and I intend to stand by it. Ida Lee told me her oldest boy Jonah would be glad to earn some extra money helping out once a week after you leave. We’ll be fine.”
It appeared she had everything worked out. Didn’t sound like he’d even be missed.
“Don’t worry,” she continued with a half-grin. “The farm will still be standing when you come back at Christmas.”
Christmas seemed a long time away.
“How soon will you be leaving us?”
“I’ll stay long enough to get the furnishings installed, and make sure we have a tenant for the apartment or the storefront, or both.” He pulled out his pocketknife to add more detail to the mane. “I’ve already got a few feelers out to folks who might be interested in renting the place.”
“Another week or two, then.”
“More or less.”
If she felt any regret, she was certainly doing a good job hiding it.
He felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest. So much for thinking she might ask him to stay.
Callie pulled the brush through her hair, fighting the urge to cry. It had been so hard this evening to pretend she was okay with his leaving, to not break down and beg him to stay.
Only her pride had saved her.
It would have been absolutely humiliating to have him look at her with pity, if not outright horror, when he found out how she truly felt. Admitting her feelings would only distance him from her, not draw him closer.
She had to keep reminding herself that the friendship that had grown up between them was just that—friendship. He’d made it quite clear from the outset that he didn’t want to be tied down to either the farm or her.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Foolish, foolish girl. You knew this time would come, that Jack wouldn’t stay here forever. How could you have let your guard down so completely?
She’d played a dangerous game with her heart, pretending that, given enough time, Jack would begin to feel for her what she’d already begun to feel for him.
She should have known better.
Sure, he was more accepting of her disfigurement than other folks. But that didn’t mean he could actually develop tender feelings for her.
She should be grateful for the time she’d had and for the fact that they’d become such good friends despite their rocky start. But, heaven help her, she was selfish. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.
She wanted what she knew she would never have, should never have allowed herself to hope for.
Hadn’t her father and sisters warned her that she should focus on making herself useful, that looking for something more in a relationship would doom her to disappointment?
Why hadn’t she remembered that lesson when it counted?
She supposed it was Jack’s unique brand of kindness and his hard-won friendship, something she’d never experienced with a man before, that had lulled her into thinking he might stay. And to be fair, he’d certainly stayed in Sweetgum longer than they’d originally planned. But it had just been to make certain everything was in order before he left, not because his feelings for her had changed.
She realized that now.
Callie set the brush down, crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin before she lost the battle with her self-control and the tears started flowing.
“We have our first tenant.” Jack stepped into the kitchen the next afternoon and plucked a carrot from the bowl on the counter, feeling mighty pleased with himself. With a little help from Mrs. Mayweather, he’d set a plan in motion today that would be his parting gift to Callie, if it didn’t backfire on him.
Callie looked up from the stove. “Tenant?”
She wore a starched apron over her dress with a couple of wildflowers pinned to her bodice, and her face was flushed from the heat of the stove. She was the very picture of domesticity, of the heart and glue of a home-sweet-home.
If only he could talk her into taking that silly bonnet off when they were in the house. If only he’d had more time to try to get through her skewed thinking.
Maybe, after tomorrow…
He realized she was still staring at him. “Ben Cooper wants to lease the building in town to use as a photography studio and business office,” he explained.
A puzzled wrinkle appeared above her nose. “The undertaker?”
“Yep. Apparently he’s done a little bit of that kind of work for funerals already. Says he wants to start capturing some happier occasions, too.”
“Oh, that is good news.” She set the spoon down and wiped her hands on the apron. “That was a very clever idea of yours, to build a storefront area within the building, I mean.”
He grinned. “Not so clever. I just borrowed the idea from what had been there before.” He leaned back against the counter and crossed one booted foot over the other. “I also thought, since Ben is looking to get the word out about his new enterprise, that it might be a good idea to have a family photograph taken before I left.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, yes, let’s do. It’ll give the children something to remind them of you while you’re away.”
And I’ll have something of you all to take with me as well.
“I’m glad you agree. Especially since I already told him we’d be there at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
Her hands fisted on her hips, and her brow furrowed. “That was mighty presumptuous of you, sir.” The sweet quirk of her lips, however, spoiled the mock stern expression she’d obviously been going for.
He only hoped she was still smiling when she learned of the other surprise he had in store for her.
Chapter Thirty
When they arrived in town the next morning, Jack noted with approval that Ben had finished getting things ready. There was a large sign that read Cooper’s Photography and Business Office hanging out front, and the shades were rolled up on the big glass fronted window facing the sidewalk.
A number of townsfolk were gathered around, talking with interest about the new business venture.
Jack halted the wagon right in front and set the brake. “Simon, help your sisters down, please.” He jumped down and strode quickly around to lend Callie a hand.
Once she was safely on the ground, he retrieved a box from under the buggy seat. “I bought you a little something.”
She gave him a startled look. “What’s the occasion?”
He shrugged. “Call it a late birthday present. Or something to remember me by.”
She opened the lid and, to Jack’s relief, gave a cry of delight. “Oh, Jack, it’s lovely.” She lifted the hat out of the box, turning it this way and that to examine every ribbon and flower. “I’ve never owned anything so beautiful.”
“Mrs. Mayweather helped pick it out.” Jack fidgeted with the brim of his own hat. “The green ribbons were my idea though. I thought they matched your eyes.”
Her expression softened as she fingered the ribbon. “It’s such a thoughtful gift.”
He saw the moment the realization hit her. Her eyes lost some of their sparkle and regret mingled with apprehension on her face. “But I can’t—”
He wasn’t about to let her back down. “It would mean a lot to me if you’d wear it for the picture.”
“But—”
Jack touched a finger to her lips and saw her eyes widen in reaction.
“When I look at this picture in the coming weeks,” he said, not bothering to lower his voice, “I want to see you looking back at me, the woman I had all those late night talks with, not some shrinking violet hiding behind a bonnet.”
She hesitated and her gaze darted to the nearby crowd.
More than likely a number of them were eavesdropping. At least he hoped so. He didn’t want to leave even a faint impression in anyone’s mind that he had a problem with the way she looked.
When her eyes met his again he saw her uncertainty was stronger than ever. But he held her gaze, refusing to
give in, and finally she nodded.
Pride surged through him, pride in her mettle and in her spirit. He knew the courage it had taken to make that decision. “Good.” He reached for the ribbon tied beneath her chin, acting quickly, before she could change her mind. “Allow me.”
With deft movements, he untied the bonnet strings and removed it from her head while she held perfectly still. Her gaze was locked onto his as if to a lifeline.
Handing the old bonnet to Emma without breaking eye contact, he took the new hat and placed it on her head. “What do you think, girls? Full on or at an angle?”
“Definitely at an angle,” Emma said with a smile.
“I agree.” He set the hat at a jaunty tilt and tied the bow with a flourish.
He ran the back of his hand softly down her blemished cheek, then took a step back to study the effect. “Yes, much better.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
Callie nearly melted inside from the sweetness of his touch.
Was this some sort of show he was putting on for the benefit of the town? Or did he truly not mind what she looked like?
All she knew was, right at this moment, she didn’t care. Either way, his motives were grounded in a true nobility of spirit. And thanks to him, she’d never felt lovelier in her life.
Callie’s courage held all the way up until the actual sitting. Suddenly she became very conscious of the other folks who’d wandered inside or stood outside at the window, watching what was going on.
When Ben tried to pose the five of them, reality flooded back in. What had she been thinking? Why in the world would she want to preserve this hopelessly flawed image of herself?
Ignoring Ben’s directions, she turned so that only her good side was showing.
Jack, however, was having none of that.
“I want everyone looking straight at the camera,” he announced in his firmest tone. “Just as if they were looking at me.” He met Callie’s gaze. “Because that’s what I want to see when I look at this picture.”
So despite her better judgment, Callie swallowed hard, tried to shut out everyone else, and stared at the camera. She imagined it was Jack, way across the country in California, looking back at her. She even managed a wavery smile.
When the sitting was finally over, they headed for the buggy. Callie held tightly to Jack’s arm, wanting to shrink away every time they stopped to talk to someone. She felt all those eyes staring at her, judging her by the mark on her face, and pitying Jack for being tied to her.
When they reached the buggy, she offered Simon her seat up front and climbed into the back with the girls before Jack could protest. She told him to let Simon drive them home, that the boy needed to get more practice in.
But the resigned look on Jack’s face told her she hadn’t fooled him. And moreover, she’d spoiled his pleasure in the gift.
Why couldn’t he understand that she had accepted the burden of who she was? She didn’t need nor even want to force everyone else to live with it as well.
As soon as they walked into the house, Callie stopped in front of the mirrored hall tree and untied the ribbons under her chin. “Emma,” she called as she removed the lovely bit of millenary, “do you still have my bonnet?”
“I think I left it in the buggy,” Emma said. “But you don’t really need it right now, do you?”
“Well, yes, I—”
“Doesn’t it make you feel all hot and stuffy?” Annabeth asked. “Besides, I hardly ever get to see your angel’s kiss.”
“I know, sweetie, but—”
“But what?” Simon interrupted. “Other ladies don’t wear sunbonnets in the house.”
That brought her up short. She thought the sight of her birthmark embarrassed Simon.
“It sounds like you’re outvoted to me.” Jack stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest.
Callie stared at the four of them and felt something inside her uncoil softly, like a morning glory unfurling at the first hint of sunlight.
Not even her parents and sisters had looked at her that way. With them, she’d always known they were protecting her, were trying to make her feel normal. She’d always felt the need to make herself not only as invisible as possible, but also as useful as possible to justify her place in the family.
The feeling she was getting right now from Jack and the children was that she was normal, she was appreciated for who she was, and they truly didn’t understand why she’d want to shut herself off.
“Very well.” She heard the huskiness in her voice and made an effort to lighten it. “We shall leave the sunbonnets for when I’m out in the sun.”
Callie headed upstairs, needing a few minutes alone to absorb the feelings flooding through her. The mix of joy, gratitude and humble appreciation were almost overwhelming.
Thank you, Father, for placing me in the midst of this wonderful family. When I grow lonely or discouraged in the days to come, let me remember this moment and find joy again.
She couldn’t bear to put Jack’s gift back in its hatbox. Instead, she set it in a place of honor on the top of her bureau where she could see it whenever she was in the room.
It had been such a deliberately kind, meaningful gesture on Jack’s part. How could she ever repay him? There wasn’t anything she could give in return that could compare—
Her gaze fell on her bedside table.
Actually, there was one thing.
Callie took a deep breath as she prepared to step out on the porch that evening. Then she pushed open the screen door and, bypassing the bench, took a seat on the step beside him.
Jack halted his whittling and gave her a startled look.
“I want you to take this with you.” She held the well-worn Bible out to him.
Jack looked down at the book and then his gaze flew up to meet hers. “This is your personal Bible.”
She smiled. “I have the Tyler family Bible now. And you can bring this one back to me when you return.”
“Callie, I don’t—”
“I know. But humor me.” She took his hand, turned it palm up and set the Bible there. She placed her own hand on top. “I want you to have this. It’ll be like taking a part of me with you.” You already have my heart, but that will be my secret.
They sat like that for a long moment, gazes locked, the Bible sandwiched between their left hands.
Finally Jack nodded. “I’d be honored to guard this for you until I return.” He gave her his crooked smile. “I might even read it from time to time.”
She held his gaze a moment longer. “I hope so. Because, whenever we do our evening Bible reading here, I’ll be imagining you doing the same. It’ll be almost like you’re in the room with us.”
But almost was not nearly the same as actually.
Why can’t I be content with what I have instead of always wanting more?
Chapter Thirty-One
Jack leaned back against the seat of the stage, watching the town of Sweetgum roll past the window, still seeing the faces of the four of them as they waved goodbye from the sidewalk outside the Sweetgum Hotel and Post Office.
The goodbyes had been more difficult than he’d imagined. And not just for those he’d left behind.
Strange how different this departure was from that last one eleven years ago. There’d been no one to see him off then, because he hadn’t told anyone ahead of time he was leaving. Just left a note and slipped away.
Back then he’d been eagerly looking ahead to new adventures, confident that once he stepped out of Lanny’s shadow he’d finally come into his own. And in a way he had. That pushing-forward drive had become a way of life for him, keeping him always moving, always looking to the next job, the next challenge.
And until he read that earth-shattering telegram, he’d never let himself look back.
This leave-taking today, though, had a whole different feel to it. Instead of that sense of anticipation, there was a pull to look back. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he
was leaving behind—the homeplace that seemed more like home now than it ever had before, the kids who looked to him to keep their world safe, and most of all Callie, who was so loving and determined and full of the right kind of grit. So much so, actually, that it seemed she no longer needed him.
He tipped his hat down over his face and shifted to a more comfortable position. This strange mood was probably just fatigue and delayed grieving.
He’d no doubt be back to his old self by the time he reached California.
“You have such a lovely voice, dear.”
“Why, thank you, Mrs. Mayweather, what a kind thing to say.” Callie stepped from the church into the bright sunshine. Jack had been gone for three days and already she missed him almost more than she could bear. It had been hard on the children as well. Did Jack realize how much they’d all come to care for him, how big a hole his departure had left behind?
But she refused to wear a long face and feel sorry for herself—at least not in public.
“Not kind, honest.” Mrs. Mayweather fluttered an elegant ivory and lace fan under her chin. “I wish God had seen fit to bless me with such talent instead of a frog-like croak.”
Callie was distracted by the discomfort of her tight-fitting bonnet. “I’m sure your voice is quite nice,” she said absently.
She ignored the urge to loosen the ribbon. She still wore the poke bonnets when she came to town, of course. But now that she had dispensed with wearing them at home, she found they no longer felt like the part of her they once had.
“Oh, no.” Mrs. Mayweather smiled and patted her hand. “No need to worry about my feelings, Callista, dear. I have learned to live with my limitations.” She sighed. “It’s just that I do love to sing and I must constantly remind myself to hold back so that I don’t disrupt the service.”
Callie shook her head, certain her friend had blown the problem all out of proportion. “I’m certain you’re being much too harsh with yourself.”
The Hand-Me-Down Family Page 22