Made for Marriage

by Helen Lacey

  “Then you don’t know how I feel.”

  He was right—she didn’t have a clue. She wasn’t a parent. She’d never be a parent. Silence stretched. She looked at him. He looked at her. Something flickered between them. An undercurrent. Not of anger—this was something else.

  He’s looking at me. He’s angry. He’s downright furious. But he’s checking me out.

  Callie couldn’t remember the last time she’d registered that kind of look. Or the last time she’d wanted to look back. But she knew she shouldn’t. He had children. He was obviously married. She glanced at his left hand. No wedding ring. Her belly dipped nonsensically.

  His eyes narrowed. “Have you any qualifications?”

  She stared at him. “I have an instructor’s ticket from the Equestrian Federation of—”

  “I meant qualifications to work with kids?” he said, cutting off her ramble. “Like teaching credentials? Or a degree in child psychology? Come to think of it, do you have any qualifications other than the fact you can ride a horse?”

  Outraged, Callie opened her mouth to speak but quickly stopped. She was suddenly tongue-tied, stripped of her usual ability to speak her mind. Her cheeks flamed and thankfully her silence didn’t last long. “Are you always so…so rude?”

  He smiled as though he found her anger amusing. “And do you always allow your students to walk around unsupervised?”

  “No,” she replied, burning up. “But you’re not in possession of all the facts.”

  He watched her for a moment, every gorgeous inch of him focused on her, and she experienced a strange dip in the pit of her stomach, like she was riding a roller coaster way too fast.

  “Then please…enlighten me,” he said quietly.

  Callie bit her temper back. “When Lily arrived early I told her to wait for me. She didn’t.”

  “And that’s when she took your horse?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell her to get off?”

  “I did,” Callie replied. “Although I’ve discovered that sometimes its better practice to let people find out just how—”

  “You mean the hard way?” he asked, cutting her off again.

  Callie nodded. “But she wasn’t in any danger. Indiana wouldn’t have hurt her.”

  “Just for the record,” he said quietly—so quietly Callie knew he was holding himself in control—“Lily knows all about hard life lessons.”

  She’s not the only one.

  Good sense thankfully prevailed and she kept her cool. “I’m sorry you had a reason to be concerned about her safety,” she said quietly. “I had no idea she would do something like that.”

  “Did it occur to you to call me?” he asked. “I did leave you my cell number when I first phoned you. Lily arrived two hours early—didn’t that set off some kind of alarm bell?”

  “She said you’d told her the wrong time.”

  “Does that seem likely? This arrangement won’t work out,” he said before she could respond. “I’ll find another instructor for Lily—one who can act responsibly.”

  His words stung. But Callie had no illusions about Lily Preston. The girl was trouble. And she certainly didn’t want to have anything more to do with the man in front of her. Despite the fact her dormant libido had suddenly resurfaced and seemed to be singing, pick me, pick me!

  She wanted to challenge him there and then to who was the responsible one—her for taking her eyes off Lily for a matter of minutes or him for clearly having little control over his daughter. But she didn’t. Think about the business. Think about the horses. The last run-in she had with a parent had cost her nearly a quarter of her students and she was still struggling to recoup her losses. Three months earlier Callie had caught two students breaking the rules and had quickly cancelled all lessons with the troublesome sisters. But the girls’ mother had other ideas, and she’d threatened to lodge a formal complaint with the Equestrian Federation. It could have led to the suspension of her instructor’s license. Of course Callie could still teach without it, but her credentials were important to her. And she didn’t want that kind of trouble again.

  “That’s your decision.”

  He didn’t say another word. He just turned on his heels and walked away.

  Callie slumped back against a fence post. Moments later she heard the rumble of an engine and didn’t take a breath until the sound of tires crunching over gravel faded into nothing.

  She looked at Indiana. She’d brought the horse with her from California—just Indy and three suitcases containing her most treasured belongings. Indiana had remained quarantined for some time after her arrival. Long enough for Callie to hunt through real estate lists until she’d found the perfect place to start her riding school.

  Callie loved Sandhills Farm. Indiana and the rest of her nine horses were her life…her babies. The only babies I’ll have. It made her think of that man and his four children.

  A strange sensation uncurled in her chest, reminding her of an old pain—of old wishes and old regrets.

  She took Indy’s reins and led him toward the stables. Once he was back in the stall Callie headed for the office. She liked to call it an office, even though it essentially served as a tack room. She’d added a desk, a filing cabinet and a modest computer setup.

  Joe, her part-time farmhand, had arrived and began the feeding schedule. Callie looked at her appointment book and struck Lily Preston’s name off her daily list. There would be no Lily in her life…and no Lily’s gorgeous father.

  She looked around at her ego wall and at the framed photographs she’d hung up in no particular order. Pictures from her past, pictures of herself and Indiana at some of the events they’d competed in.

  But not one of Craig.

  Because she didn’t want the inevitable inquisition. She didn’t talk about Craig Baxter. Or her past. She’d moved halfway across the world to start her new life. Crystal Point had been an easy choice. Her father had been born in the nearby town of Bellandale and Callie remembered the many happy holidays she’d spent there when she was young. It made her feel connected to her Australian roots to make her home in the place where he’d been raised and lived until he was a young man. And although she missed California, this was home now. And she wasn’t about to let that life be derailed by a gorgeous man with sexy green eyes. No chance.

  Callie loved yard sales. Late Sunday morning, after her last student left, she snatched a few twenty dollar bills from her desk drawer and whistled Tessa to come to heel as she headed for her truck. The dog quickly leapt into the passenger seat.

  The drive into Crystal Point took exactly six minutes. The small beachside community boasted a population of just eight hundred residents and sat at the mouth of the Bellan River, one of the most pristine waterways in the state. On the third Sunday of every month the small community hosted a “trunk and treasure” sale, where anyone who had something to sell could pull up their car, open the trunk and offer their wares to the dozens of potential buyers who rolled up.

  The sale was in full swing and Callie parked a hundred yards up the road outside the local grocery store. She opened a window for Tessa then headed inside to grab a soda before she trawled for bargains. The bell dinged as she stepped across the threshold. The shop was small, but crammed with everything from fishing tackle to beach towels and grocery items. There was also an ATM and a pair of ancient fuel pumps outside that clearly hadn’t pumped fuel for years.

  “Good morning, Callie.”

  “Hi, Linda,” she greeted the fifty-something woman behind the counter, who was hidden from view by a tall glass cabinet housing fried food, pre-packaged sandwiches and cheese-slathered hot dogs.

  She picked out a soda and headed for the counter.

  Linda smiled. “I hear you had a run-in wi
th Noah Preston yesterday.”

  Noah? Was that his name? He’d probably told her when he’d made arrangements for his daughter’s lessons, but Callie had appalling recall for names. Noah. Warmth pooled low in her belly. I don’t have any interest in that awful man. And she wasn’t about to admit she’d spent the past twenty-four hours thinking about him.

  “Good news travels fast,” she said and passed over a twenty dollar note.

  Linda took the money and cranked the register. “In this place news is news. I only heard because my daughter volunteers as a guard at the surf beach.”

  Callie took the bait and her change. “The surf beach?”

  “Well, Cameron was there. He told her all about it.”

  He did? “Who’s Cameron?”

  Linda tutted as though Callie should know exactly who he was. “Cameron Jakowski. He and Noah are best friends.”

  Callie couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be friends with Noah Preston.

  “Cameron volunteers there, too,” she said, and Callie listened, trying to not lose track of the conversation. “Noah used to, but he’s too busy with all his kids now.”

  “So this Cameron told your daughter what happened?”

  “Yep. He said you and Noah had an all-out brawl. Something to do with that eldest terror of his.”

  “It wasn’t exactly a brawl,” Callie explained. “More like a disagreement.”

  “I heard he thinks you should be shut down,” Linda said odiously, her voice dropping an octave.

  Callie’s spine stiffened. Not again. When she’d caught the Trent sisters smoking in the stables, Sonya Trent had threatened the same thing. “What?”

  “Mmm,” Linda said. “And it only takes one thing to go wrong to ruin a business, believe me. One whiff of you being careless around the kids and you can kiss the place goodbye.”

  Callie felt like throwing up. Her business meant everything to her. Her horses, her home. “I didn’t do anything,” she protested.

  Linda made a sympathetic face. “Of course you didn’t, love. But I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you had because of that little hellion.” Linda sighed. “That girl’s been nothing but trouble since her—”

  The conversation stopped abruptly when the bell pealed and a woman, dressed in a pair of jeans and a vivid orange gauze blouse, walked into the shop. Black hair curled wildly around her face and bright green eyes regarded Callie for a brief moment.

  “Hello, Linda,” she said and grabbed a bottle of water from one of the fridges.

  “Evie, good to see you. Are you selling at the trunk sale today?” Linda asked.

  Her dancing green eyes grew wide. “For sure,” she said and paid her money. “My usual stuff. But if you hear of anyone wanting a big brass bed, let me know. I’m renovating one of the upstairs rooms and it needs to go. Catch you later.”

  She hurried from the shop and Linda turned her attention back to Callie.

  “That’s Evie Dunn,” Linda explained. “She runs a bed and breakfast along the waterfront. You can’t miss it. It’s the big A-frame place with the monstrous Norfolk pines out the front. She’s an artist and sells all kinds of crafting supplies, too. You should check it out.”

  Callie grimaced and then smiled. “I’m not really into handicrafts.”

  Linda’s silvery brows shot up. “Noah Preston is her brother.”

  Of course. No wonder those green eyes had looked so familiar. Okay, maybe now she was a little interested. Callie grabbed her soda and left the shop. So, he wanted her shut down, did he?

  She drove the truck in the car park and leashed Tessa. There were more than thirty cars and stalls set up, and the park was teeming with browsers and buyers. It took Callie about three minutes to find Evie Dunn. The pretty brunette had a small table laid out with craft wares and costume jewelry. She wandered past once and then navigated around for another look.

  “Are you interested in scrapbooking?” Evie Dunn asked on her third walk by.

  Callie stalled and eased Tessa to heel. She took a step toward the table and shrugged. “Not particularly.”

  Black brows rose sharply. “Are you interested in a big brass bed?”

  Callie shook her head. “Ah, I don’t think so.”

  Evie planted her hands on her hips. “Then I guess you must be interested in my brother?”

  Callie almost hyperventilated. “What do you—”

  “You’re Callie, right?” The other woman asked and thrust out her hand. “I saw the name of your riding school on the side of your truck. I’m Evie. Lily told me all about you. You made quite an impression on my niece, which is not an easy feat. From what she told me, I’m certain she still wants you as her riding instructor.”

  There was no chance that was going to happen. “I don’t think it’s up to Lily.”

  “Made you mad, did he?”

  Callie took a step forward and shook her hand. “You could say that.”

  Evie, whose face was an amazing mix of vivid color—green eyes and bright cherry lips—stared at her with a thoughtful expression that said she was being thoroughly summed up. “So, about the brass bed?” she asked and smiled. “Would you like to see it?”

  Brass bed? Callie shook her head. Hadn’t she already said she wasn’t interested? “I don’t think—”

  “You’ll love it,” Evie insisted. “I can take you to look at it now if you like. Help me pack up and we can get going.”

  Callie began to protest and then stopped. She was pretty sure they weren’t really talking about a bed. This was Noah Preston’s sister. And because he had quickly become enemy number one, if she had a lick of sense she’d find out everything she could about him and use it to her advantage. If Noah thought she would simply sit back and allow him to ruin her reputation, he could certainly think again. Sandhills Farm was her life. If he wanted a war, she’d give him one.

  Chapter Two

  Noah didn’t know how to reach out to his angry daughter. He hurt for her. A deep, soul-wrenching hurt that transcended right through to his bones. But what could he do? Her sullen, uncommunicative moods were impossible to read. She skulked around the house with her eyes to the floor, hiding behind her makeup, saying little, determined to disassociate herself from the family he tried so frantically to keep together.

  And she pined for the mother who’d abandoned her without a backward glance.

  She’d deny it, of course. But Noah knew. It had been more than four years ago. Four and a half long years and they all needed to move on.

  Yeah, right…like I’ve moved on?

  He liked to think so. Perhaps not the way his parents or sisters thought he should have. But he’d managed to pull together the fractured pieces of the life his ex-wife discarded. He had Preston Marine, the business his grandfather created and which he now ran, his kids, his family and friends. It was enough. More than enough.

  Most of the time.

  Except for the past twenty-four hours.

  Because as much as he tried not to, he couldn’t stop thinking about the extraordinarily beautiful Callie Jones and her glittering blue eyes. And the way she’d planted her hands on her hips. And the sinful way she’d filled out her jeans. For the first time in forever he felt a spark of attraction. More than a spark. It felt like a damned raging inferno, consuming him with its heat.

  Noah stacked the dishes he’d washed and dried his hands, then checked his watch. He was due at Evie’s around two o’clock; he’d promised her he’d help shift some furniture. Evie loved rearranging furniture.

  Within ten minutes they were on their way. Hayley and Matthew, secured in their booster seats, chatted happily to each other while Jamie sat in the front beside Noah. His one-hundred-and-forty acre farm was only minutes out of Crystal Point an
d was still considered part of the small town. He’d bought the place a couple of years earlier, for a song of a price, from an elderly couple wanting to retire after farming sugar cane for close to fifty years. The cane was all but gone now, and Noah leased the land to a local farmer who ran cattle.

  He dropped speed along The Parade, the long road separating the houses from the shore, and pulled up outside his sister’s home. There was a truck parked across the road, a beat-up blue Ford that looked familiar. He hauled Hayley into his arms, grabbed Matty’s hand and allowed Jamie to seize the knapsack from the backseat and then race on ahead. The kids loved Evie’s garden, with its pond and stone paved walkways, which wound in tracks to a stone wishing well. And Noah kind of liked it, too.

  “Look, Daddy…it’s that dog,” Jamie said excitedly, running toward a happy-looking pup tied to a railing near the front veranda.

  The dog looked as familiar to him as the truck parked outside. His stomach did a stupid leap.

  She’s here? What connection did Callie Jones have to Evie? Before he could protest, Jamie was up the steps, opening the front door and calling his aunt’s name.

  Noah found them in the kitchen. Evie was cutting up pineapple and she was sitting at the long scrubbed table, cradling a mug in her hands. She looked up when he entered the room and smiled. A killer smile. A smile with enough kick to knock the breath from his chest. He wondered if she knew she had it, if she were aware how flawless her skin looked or how red and perfectly bowed her lips were. The hat was gone and her brown hair hung over one shoulder in a long braid.

  Discomfort raced through him. Noah shifted Hayley on his hip and hung on tightly to Matty’s hand. She looked him over, he looked her over. Something stirred, rumbling through his blood, taunting him a little.

  Evie cleared her throat and broke the silence. “Well,” she said. “How about I take the kids outside and you two can…talk?”

  Noah didn’t want to talk with her. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to drag himself away.

  Callie Jones had walked into his life. And he was screwed.