Ozark Sweetheart

by Helen Gray

  He would stay busy. The business needed his concentration. And his parents could probably benefit from a little more personal attention.

  The time after Joanna’s death had been dark. He tried to recall her face, but all that came to mind was Callie’s dark eyes and sweet lips. Darkness enveloped him again.

  Chapter 14

  Springfield, Missouri

  Five months later

  Callie’s feet hurt. Waitress work involved being on her feet all day. No sitting down to break beans or peel potatoes. She had to walk back and forth between the kitchen and hungry customers a zillion times. At least it seemed that many. But she thanked God every day that Ruby Palmer’s restaurant drew a steady stream of customers.

  Not only was she exhausted from a ten-hour shift, but her emotions were also at a low ebb. She was lonely. What she wouldn’t give for a chance to see Trace, talk to him, feel his arms around her. A deep hole in her heart made her chest ache.

  She trudged home in the bitter February cold. Rather, she trudged to Aunt Lily’s small frame house she called home. She slipped into the house quietly, pasted a smile on her weary face and crossed the dark living room to the lighted kitchen.

  Aunt Lily spun around, a hand pressed to her chest. “Mercy, I didn’t hear you come in.” Thin to the point of gauntness, Callie’s aunt Lily radiated calm confidence and practiced a no-nonsense approach to life. She had married young, but lost her husband in an influenza epidemic a few months later. Grief stricken, she had lost the baby she carried. She had never remarried and lived the life of a spinster. She worked as a teller in a bank and lived a fairly comfortable life—especially for these times. She had welcomed Callie into her home in Springfield—hours away by buckboard—and insisted she stay there rather than rent a room. Callie had accepted the room, but insisted on paying rent. They got along fine.

  “There’s food in the warmer.” Aunt Lily nodded toward the stove. “I went ahead and ate since you said you had to work late.”

  Callie shook her head. “I ate at the restaurant. I’m tired. If you don’t mind, I’d like to clean up and go to bed.”

  The kind woman’s face took on a sympathetic look. “Go ahead and get some rest. Oh, but let me give you your mail first. You have a letter from your friend.”

  Aunt Lily got up and went to the living room. Moments later she returned and handed Callie an envelope. She gave her a peck on the cheek. “You run on now.”

  Callie hurried to her little bedroom and took off her coat. She placed the letter on the bed and took her nightgown and robe to the bathroom across the hall, a wondrous luxury she prayed to have in a home of her own someday.

  After her bath, she crawled into bed and propped herself up against the headboard with pillows. She opened the envelope and began to read.

  Dear Callie,

  I loved your last letter. Please write more often if you can.

  I stop by after school a couple of times a week and check on your family. Clem is still helping me with the swap meets. We’ve only had them once a month these past two months, but we plan to go back to doing them every other week next month. Clem always brings her scissors and gives free haircuts when we do have them. I think she’s staying home and helping your mother more.

  Your parents miss you, especially your mother. She feels bad that you have to help them this way, but she accepts that it’s the only way they can keep from losing their home. She says to tell you they’re doing better, and the loan is getting close to being paid in full.

  The passing weeks had brought a form of success for Callie, but nothing ceased the ache of loneliness in her heart. She sighed and nearly wept as she read the rest of Jolene’s news about her own family, the school and how much she missed their times together.

  Two days after arriving in Springfield, Callie had noticed a Help Wanted sign in the window of the restaurant a few blocks from the house, applied and been hired. A few weeks later she had stopped at the nearby car dealership—again. When she overheard one salesman telling another that he wished they had someone to keep their vehicles clean, she had told them she would do it, and been hired to wash cars on her days off from the restaurant. It didn’t pay much, but it was money she could save toward buying a car. She sent her restaurant pay to her mother.

  She missed her family. She missed the country, amid the noise and scramble of the city.

  She missed Trace.

  * * *

  As the weeks passed, Trace missed Callie until he thought he would scream in agony. The end of something that had filled him with hope sank him to sadness akin to despair. The future once again held only emptiness. Anger ate at him like acid that she could walk away when he wanted her to stay so badly.

  How bad was the Blake family situation? Should he find out more?

  “You look like a man with a lot on his mind.” Riley Blake greeted him with an inquisitive look when Trace approached the back of the field where Riley was shutting down the steam engine and putting away tools.

  Trace eyed the pile of freshly cut boards a few yards from the machine. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

  Riley snorted. “Too bad we don’t have enough customers to keep us busier. What can I do for you? Or is it Dad you came to see?” He nodded at Arlie Blake on his way to the toolshed with an armload of tools.

  “Got a few minutes you can spare?”

  Being out here made it impossible for Trace to keep from remembering Callie in her overalls, plunking frogs in the pond beyond them. She belonged here, in the country, running free. It amazed him how at home he had come to feel out here. A fresh sense of abandonment filled him.

  Lord, why did You let me fall in love with her and then let her leave me? How am I supposed to live without her?

  Riley’s throat clearing brought him back to attention. “What do you want?”

  How could he ask?

  “Well, I wondered if you would tell me more about why Callie...your sister left. I mean, I don’t understand why she had to do it.”

  Riley’s gaze raked him from head to foot, up and down and back again, as if he were a hog being examined for market readiness—or butchering. “Why do you want to know such personal stuff?”

  “I miss her.”

  A hint of a twitch pulled at the corners of Riley’s pursed mouth. “So do I. We all do.”

  “Couldn’t she have stayed?” He felt like a beggar, pleading for crumbs of information.

  Riley’s body visibly relaxed. “The folks borrowed money they can’t pay back. They missed a couple of payments, and the bank told them they would be foreclosing on the house. Callie made Mom tell her the truth. She paid the missed payments with her savings and tried to find work around here. She couldn’t, so she went where she could.”

  Trace stilled his face through the dispassionate recital. He looked up at the sky as pain rocked him. “She loves her family.”

  “I think she would like to add to her family,” Riley said with a lopsided near-smirk. “And I suspect you would be agreeable.”

  Trace turned his eyes back onto the wiry man. “I’d give her the moon if I could.”

  A finger went to Riley’s mouth as he nodded. “I think you would at that. Well, if you found out all you came for, I’ve got chores waiting. Come around again when we can catch some fish down at the pond.”

  A friendship with Riley Blake could be a good thing. It was something he could pursue. But for Callie, he could only wait.

  He got back in the truck and glanced around the mill, his thoughts churning. He needed his own space. Was it time to resurrect his plans to build a house? If he went ahead now, would he have to live in it alone?

  This could be a big mistake, but he had to take the risk. Making an on-the-spot decision, he got back out of the truck. “Hey, Riley,” he called as Riley headed tow
ard the toolshed.

  Riley stopped and turned around. “You need something else?”

  “I want to order some lumber.”

  Surprise lit Riley’s face. He came back, and they met halfway. “How much, and when do you need it?”

  “I want enough to build a house, minus one load.”

  Riley frowned. Then his face brightened. “Ah, the one we hauled out to your place.”

  Trace ignored the smug grin. “I want it in time to build a house in the spring. And I’ll need a carpenter, maybe a couple of them. Do you do that kind of work?”

  “Yep. Dad and us boys built that back when Delmer and me wuz just boys.” He tipped his head in the direction of their house. “We’ve done a lot more of that kind of work since.”

  “Would you consider working for me?”

  Riley scratched his head. “Hadn’t thought about such a thing, but it sounds good. Business has been so slow that Dad and Delmer could probably get by without me here.”

  “If something came up and they needed you, we could work it out.”

  Riley considered for a moment, and then he smiled. “That would mean I could help the folks more with the bills, and maybe you could help Dad find that steal of a deal on a used car?” He phrased the last as a question.

  Trace stuck out a hand. “When can you start?”

  Riley shrugged. “Tomorrow soon enough?”

  On his way back to his truck Trace felt good, like he had taken a step in the right direction.

  * * *

  “Ah...ah...ah...choo!”

  No one sneezed like Aunt Lily. They came on in slow catches of breath, and then erupted from her with a loud force that jarred her entire body.

  Callie grinned at the thin woman kneeling next to a flower bed among her bulbs, seeds and plants. She crossed the small yard toward her. “Aunt Lily, you need to go inside. This spring pollen is killing you.”

  The sky had cleared, the temperature had warmed and greenery sprang from the earth. The one downside of this entire coming-to-life process was the pollen that flooded the air.

  “I habda ged my flowers in,” her aunt said past swollen sinuses that affected her speech, the flower on her wide-brimmed straw hat jiggling as her head shook.

  Callie put down the big bucket she carried and dropped to her knees beside the older woman. “Then let me help you so you can finish sooner.” She reached for a dahlia bulb.

  “At least you godda wash cars doday.”

  Callie laughed. “Some of them were almost solid yellow from pollen.”

  “You muss be dired.” Aunt Lily eyed Callie’s pollen-smeared and spattered overalls.

  Callie shrugged and pulled a handful of weeds from the edge of the flower bed. “It’s a good kind of tired. And I love looking at the cars.”

  “I know you do. You look excided dalking aboud’em.”

  Callie turned glowing eyes on to her aunt. “I found the one I want, and I should have enough saved to buy it before long.”

  “So much fasder?”

  Callie beamed. “Oh, yes. You see, I’ll have more money now.”

  Aunt Lily rocked back on her heels. “You god a big raise?”

  Callie shook her head, nearly bursting with her news. “You know I got another letter from Mom. She said Riley has been working in town part of the time, and the bank note is almost paid off. Mom said I shouldn’t send them any more money, to start spending it on myself. That means I can put that much more in my savings, and I should be able to buy that car soon—if someone doesn’t beat me to it.” She ran out of breath and had to stop her rush of words.

  Aunt Lily laughed and picked up a trowel. She began to plant marigolds around the border of the bed. “It sounds like you may be heading home soon.”

  “Not until I get my car,” Callie declared. “Oh, there’s one more thing. Mom said Dad got a real deal and bought a used car from the Gentrys.”

  “Gentry. Habben’d I heard that name before?”

  “They own the Chevy dealership in town.”

  “I see.” Aunt Lily leaned back on her heels to study Callie’s face. “Dese owners are good people den?”

  “Oh, yes. They’re community leaders and honest business people. Their son even lets us use an empty room in the back of the business for our community swap meets.” She explained how it worked.

  Aunt Lily jabbed at the soil. “And dis son got involved how?”

  “He donated groceries from the very beginning. Then he began to do other things.” Callie described some of them while working alongside her aunt.

  “He sounds like a special young man. You sound habby when you speak ob him.”

  “Trace is that.”

  Another bout of sneezing overtook her aunt.

  “I’ll finish planting these if you’ll go inside where you can breathe.”

  Aunt Lily pulled a hanky from her pocket and wiped her nose and watery eyes. She got to her feet. “I dink you’re ride. I been out here long ’nuff. Dank you for ’elping.”

  Callie watched her aunt walk away and fought the fresh wave of loneliness that mention of Trace had brought.

  Was she making a mistake? Should she go home? The family could use her help around the place, but they could also use a car. No, wait. They didn’t need one. Dad had a car now.

  Yet the thought of home filled her mind. Home. Where was home? Her parents’ house was no longer her home. This house where she stayed was her aunt’s home. She didn’t have a home. Where did she belong?

  She couldn’t run back to Deer Lick just because she wanted to see Trace. If she gave up her job and went back, she became another mouth for her parents to feed— without a job. And Trace might have forgotten her, or found someone else. He had said he cared for her, but that didn’t mean he wanted to marry her.

  If she knew for certain that Trace did want her, what would she do? The very possibility made her too weak to venture an answer. All she felt certain about was that a car would give her more independence, the freedom to roam, or go home if she chose. She had the means in sight, so the only thing that made sense was to stay with her job.

  Lord, I’ve been focused on work for so long that I can’t stop doing it. Help me. Let me know if I’m doing the right thing.

  That week Callie bought a new dress for Easter. It made her feel extravagant, but she wore it with pride at having achieved one of her goals. There’s nothing wrong with homemade clothes, Lord. But it’s such a luxury to not have to cut and stitch, to rip out mistakes and restitch. Forgive me if I’m being lazy and selfish.

  After the Easter service at her aunt’s church—she still thought of the little church back at Deer Creek as her church—Callie ate lunch with Aunt Lily before going to their separate rooms. Callie picked up her purse and sat on the edge of the bed. She took out the money that would have gone to her parents and added it to the little black bag that held her savings.

  Lay not up for yourselves treasure upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal.

  Callie jumped as the scripture popped into her mind. She turned around. As she did, her vision landed on the half-open door of the closet. The sight of her new dress taunted her.

  But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal.

  Had it been wrong to want a new dress?

  For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

  Understanding trickled through her. No, it wasn’t wrong to want a new dress or a car. What was wrong was for those material possessions to be given greater importance than God’s role in her life. She loved God, but she didn’t always put Him first, trust Him completely to take care of her and her family. She knelt at the bed.
/>   “Lord, I don’t know what’s in store for me beyond today, but I want to walk beside You whatever is in the future.”

  Chapter 15

  Too much work. Not enough hours in the days. But Trace watched with pride and a sense of satisfaction as his home took shape. With Riley coming three or four days a week, and Arlie and Delmer helping as they could, the site felt more and more like a home. The extra work kept him bone tired, but it gave him purpose.

  He stared at the building that still had a lot of indoor work to be done, his emotions a jumble. Could Callie be happy in this house? With him?

  Should he write to her? He had considered it many times, but he feared he would not express himself well on paper. Even more, he feared rejection.

  He had never been afraid like this. Flirting with the girls, even courting Joanna, had always come easy to him. Where had his confidence gone?

  Lord, show me how to proceed. Nudge me in the right direction. Tell me when it’s time.

  When he opened his eyes, the first sight to meet them was Riley Blake on the roof, nailing shingles. Trace strode to the ladder that leaned against an eave and began to climb.

  Riley looked over when Trace reached the top, his arm raised to swing his hammer. He paused in midair. “What’s on your mind?”

  The guy seemed to sense Trace’s inner turmoil.

  “Are you going to tell me how to find Callie?”

  Riley lowered the hammer and grinned. “All you had to do was ask.”

  Trace considered the words. “Had to ask, huh?”

  Riley nodded. “I been wondering if you ever would.”

  Trace waited, but Riley just sat there looking smug.

  “Well,” he huffed. “Are you going to tell me or not?”

  Riley laughed. “You poor sap. You got it bad. So, yeah, I’ll tell you.”

  * * *