Callie's Convict

by Heidi Betts

  Wade drew her snug against his tall frame. “Believe me, I know just how lucky I am. And as soon as all this is cleared up, I'm going to see to it she's thanked good and proper."

  Heat flooded her face at Wade's undisguised innuendo, and she knew she was blushing like a new peach. Worse yet, a hint of red began to climb Sheriff Walker's neck, as though he knew exactly what Wade was implying, making Callie wish she could melt through the floorboards and disappear.

  "We'd better start over to my office,” the sheriff prompted, ushering them down the aisle of the church ahead of him.

  "I have to check on Matthew,” Callie said. “I'll see if Father Ignacio can keep him a while longer, but I want to make sure he's all right."

  Wade nodded. She started toward the door separating the chapel from the orphanage, but he didn't release his grip on her hand until he absolutely had to.

  As she moved away, she heard the sheriff say, “There is one more thing that I'd really like to know."

  "What's that? Wade asked. “Is there really a gold mine on your property?"

  Wade chuckled. “You'd have to ask Callie,” he replied in a low voice. “It's her gold mine now."

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  In the weeks that followed Sheriff Walker's taking Wade in to custody, Callie did her best to keep her and Wade's spirits up.

  She visited him at the Purgatory jail at least once a day, taking him home-cooked meals, books, a change of clothes, or even just giving him time to play with Matthew.

  And Sheriff Walker had been wonderful. He'd investigated even further into Neville and Brady Young's crimes and sent for the circuit judge, confident Brady would be found guilty of his father's murder.

  Until such time as a judge overturned Wade's conviction, however, he was considered a felon and had to remain behind bars. Sympathetic to Wade's circumstances, Sheriff Walker kept him in Purgatory for as long as he could, but eventually Wade had to be transported back to the State Penitentiary at Huntsville.

  The day the guards came to get him, Callie stayed with him until the prison wagon rolled away. She'd kissed him, hugged him past the shackles once again binding his ankles and wrists, and told him that she loved him. She promised to care for Matthew and the Circle M and even the mine she'd heard so much about but had never seen.

  But as soon as enough dust from the road had been stirred up to keep him from seeing her features clearly, she'd broken down in sobs that had shaken her to her very soul.

  Since then, she'd thrown herself into doing everything she could to make his homecoming a happy one. And he would be coming home. She didn't know when, she only knew he would be.

  One week later to the day, in a trial everyone but Callie clamored to attend, Brady Young had been found guilty of his father's murder. He'd been sentenced to hang, which she found a rather fitting punishment for someone who would go so far as to shoot his own father in the back out of nothing more than greed.

  While the townspeople looked on in awe, a gallows had been constructed in the center of town, and three days after his conviction, Brady was hanged.

  Once again, Callie refused to attend. She hated Brady possibly more than anyone else in Purgatory for what he'd done to Wade—which was why she hadn't wasted one moment sitting through his trial—but that didn't mean she wanted to actually see him put to death. Simply knowing it had been done was peace of mind enough for her.

  Besides, she had plenty of other chores to keep her busy. In addition to the daily care Matthew required, Wade's ranch had been returned to his possession and she'd been spending a good chunk of time cleaning the house, hiring new hands to handle things until Wade could see to the running of the ranch himself, and getting rid of any and all signs that Brady had ever set so much as one foot on the Circle M.

  If nothing else, it helped her to work off her own simmering fury at both Brady and Neville Young and all of the horrible, nasty, back-stabbing things they'd done to Wade. As well as making her feel she was preparing something homey and welcoming for when the man she loved returned to her side.

  She'd just finished washing the last inside pane of glass on the first floor of his house with an ammonia-soaked rag and was wiping beads of sweat from her brow with the back of her arm when a knock sounded at the front door.

  Sighing, she shuffled forward. She looked like something the cows had just rolled across the pasture, with myriad stains on her skirts, splotches of water on her bodice, and ragged tufts of hair straggling from the bun at her nape.

  When she opened the door, she found Clay and Regan Walker standing on the other side, arms linked and wide smiles on their faces.

  "Good afternoon,” Regan offered brightly. Her hair was a riot of curls, held back by a yellow ribbon that perfectly matched her gabardine skirt. Only a slight swell was visible beneath her garments, hinting at the condition Sheriff Walker had revealed to Callie several weeks earlier.

  "We stopped by your place first, but when we didn't find you at home, Clay suspected you might be here. He says you've been fixing the place up for Wade's release."

  "That's right,” Callie replied, weary from a full day of backbreaking work but glad for friendly faces to disrupt the solitary monotony of dusting and scrubbing. “I don't think Brady paid much attention to anything but the ranch, and I thought it would be nice for Wade to come home to a clean house."

  "Absolutely,” Regan agreed, smiling even wider. “Though I imagine when Wade finally makes it back to Purgatory, he won't care about a little bit of dust on the mantel. Not as long as he has you warming his bed."

  "Regan,” Clay warned in a low voice, an embarrassed grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  Ignoring him, Regan threw Callie a woman-to-woman glance. “It's obvious the two of you love each other deeply, so I don't think it's any great secret that Wade will be coming home to you, not this house."

  She leaned forward to look past the doorway. “Though it is a beautiful place to raise a family. Maybe your brother will return to run your family farm after you move in here."

  Callie and Wade hadn't spent much time discussing where they would live once he was a free man again; she only knew where they put down roots wasn't nearly as important as being together. The three of them, just as it had been while Wade was still hiding out, but without the threat of discovery hanging over their heads.

  To keep Regan Walker from bringing up any more sensitive, emotional subjects, she stepped back and ushered them inside. “Would you like to come in? I can put on a pot of tea."

  "No, thank you,” the couple answered quickly and in unison.

  "Actually,” Clay put in, “we came over to ask a favor of you."

  Callie raised a brow.

  "We were wondering if you'd walk with us. Just a little ways,” Regan added. “There's something we'd like to show you."

  She couldn't imagine what the Walkers wanted her to see and didn't know whether to be worried or curious. “I'm sorry. Matthew is napping upstairs. I couldn't leave him in the house alone."

  "I'll stay with him,” Regan piped up immediately, sidling her way past Callie. “I love children, as you well know, and it will do me good to get used to holding a baby again.” With a gentle pat to her belly, she flounced across the room and up the steps to the second floor.

  Feeling like her world had been tipped upside down, Callie glanced at Clay, eyes wide. “Whatever you want to show me must be pretty important. She seemed rather eager to have me gone."

  He chuckled. “You can't sway Regan once she's got an idea in her head, and she really wants you to see this.” Offering his elbow, he half turned toward the porch steps. “Shall we?"

  She was hot and tired, but she had a feeling that if she didn't go with Clay Walker willingly, his wife would breeze back into the room and drag her off by her hair.

  "I guess I don't have much choice."

  Clay smiled. “It will be worth it, I promise."

  Taking his arm, she let him lead her down the porch step
s, around the house, and through the back pasture.

  Careful to keep the hem of her skirts above the ground and to watch where she put her feet, she asked, “Where is it that we're going? I didn't know there was anything back this way."

  "It's my understanding that this has been one of Purgatory's best-kept secrets for going on several years now."

  Her brow crinkled, wondering what in heaven's name he could be taking her to see. The farther they walked, the more it occurred to her that this was the same general direction Wade had told her to take to reach his hidden gold mine.

  Could that be where Clay was leading her? But why? If she wasn't even certain of the mine's exact location, how could Sheriff Walker know?

  As they climbed to the top of a small hillock, she thought she spotted movement in the bushes. And then she was sure of it.

  Slowly, a human form appeared. A pair of dusty, well-worn boots. Denim-clad legs. A man's brass belt buckle and light blue chambray shirt. Callie's breath caught. It couldn't be, could it? The figure pushed bushes and branches aside to reveal the boarded-up opening of a cavelike den.

  Finally she saw the most important feature of the man clearing the entrance of the mine—his face.

  His handsome, strong, tan face, with its chiseled jaw and deep brown eyes.

  The air caught in her chest and tears prickled the backs of her eyes as she dropped her hold on the sheriff's elbow and raced forward, throwing herself into Wade's waiting arms.

  He hugged her close, lifting her off the ground and spinning her in circles. She squeezed him back, kissing him over and over all along his cheekbones, his jaw, his chin and nose and brow.

  "Oh, Lord. Oh, Wade, I missed you so much,” she murmured between kisses. “When did you get back?"

  "Just a couple of hours ago.” Lips and nose nuzzling her neck, his words vibrated against her skin. “I asked Clay and Regan to bring you out here so I could surprise you."

  "It worked,” she whispered in a shaky voice. The tears that had threatened to fall only seconds before now dampened her lashes. “I'm very surprised. And so, so happy. Are you home for good?” she asked. “Is everything taken care of?"

  "Everything is fine. I'm free as a bird, sweetheart."

  "And you flew straight home to me."

  He threw back his head and laughed. “It was more like a good day's hard riding, but I definitely made a beeline for my sweet Callie girl. That's not the surprise, though. There's something else."

  "Something better than my husband coming home to me? Not possible."

  Grinning that wicked grin she'd missed so much while he was gone, he bussed her on the tip of the nose. “Maybe not better than that, but still good.” He ran his hand down her arm to grasp her hand. “How's Matthew?"

  "Wonderful. He's taking a nap back at the house. Regan stayed with him."

  He led her a few steps away, toward the cave opening. “I can't tell you how much I missed you two these past few weeks. I thought about you every minute. I dreamed of your lips, and your touch, and the way you smell of lilac after a bath. I even missed having the kid wet on my lap."

  They were still laughing as he pulled her to a stop beside the low-riding hollow dug into the earth.

  "This is the mine,” he told her. “It's not nearly as important as it was before. Provided you intend to stay married to me,” he added on a teasing note.

  "You'll have to get yourself sent back to prison if you hope to get away from me,” she shot back. “You asked me to marry you, I said yes, and I have a priest, a nun, and a signed certificate to prove it."

  "I was hoping you'd say that."

  He leaned in to kiss her again. This time his lips moved hungrily over hers, until she swayed into him and forgot all about Sheriff Walker standing behind them, likely watching their every move.

  Except that he wasn't. When she turned around, blushing, to look, she saw only the back of his brown leather vest as he headed back toward the house, leaving them in privacy.

  "Since you've decided to stay married to me, at least for a while,” Wade went on, “I think it's only fair that I finally get around to giving you a ring."

  "Is that my surprise?” she asked eagerly, wrapping herself around his arm as he moved scant inches into the overgrowth beside the mine opening.

  "Not quite, Little Miss Eager. It's this."

  Leaves rustled as he pulled a large wooden sign out of the bushes and propped it up for her to see.

  "'Callie's Claim,'” she read.

  "It's yours,” he explained. “I gave the mine to you before I left, and I mean for you to keep it. Which is why I named it after you. I've never worked the mine before, but I was thinking we could start. And the first nugget we find, I'm going to have made into a ring for you. What do you think?"

  "I think the day you broke into my house was the luckiest day of my life,” she said, laying her head against his chest.

  "Not half as lucky as it was for me. I love you, Callie girl."

  "I love you, too, Wade. I'm so glad you're home."

  "I'm glad to be home."

  His mouth captured hers again, and for several long seconds the world disappeared. There was nothing around them but blue skies and a soft summer breeze. His lips and tongue moved on hers, his hands spanning her hips as her fingers toyed with his silky chestnut hair.

  When they finally broke apart, he tipped back her head so he could meet her eyes. In a low voice, stroking her face and hair, he said, “As nice as the Walkers are, what do you say we try to get rid of them so we can start on that honeymoon? We got a little sidetracked last time around."

  "Mmm. I think that sounds like a delightful idea. If we're lucky, Matthew will sleep a while longer."

  Wade temporarily secured the wooden CALLIE'S CLAIM sign against the opening of the mine, then looped his arm around her waist and started for the house.

  "I think we've already established that our luck is going strong. Nothing can stop us now, sweetheart."

  The corners of her mouth lifted as she gazed up at Wade. Her husband. The father of the baby she'd always considered her own. And she hoped the father of many more children they'd have together.

  "Wade."

  "Yes, darlin'?” He drawled the words, his lips curling in a self-satisfied half-smile, their hips bumping together as they walked over the uneven ground.

  Her cheeks colored at what she was about to say, but she charged ahead anyway. “I know Matthew is awfully young, but what do you think about having another baby?"

  There was only a slight hitch in his gate as he tipped his head to study her. “With you? It would be my pleasure.” Pulling her even closer to his side, he said, “What do you say to a little girl this time? We can get started as soon as we reach the house."

  "As soon as we get rid of the Walkers,” she added impishly.

  He grinned and tugged at a lock of her hair. “Yeah. As soon as we get rid of the Walkers. We'll probably have to make it up to them later, but I think they'll understand."

  "You can invite them over for dinner and fry up those steaks you've been promising me."

  Eyes twinkling, he said, “I see I'm going to have to watch what I say around you. You remember everything."

  "Yes, I do."

  "Well, steaks it is, then. A woman should get a honeymoon, after all, no matter what the cost."

  "And a man should get his,” she put in.

  "Oh, he will. Believe me.” And then he brushed his lips against her temple and whispered, “Little Callie Junior, here we come."

 

 

 
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