by Eliana West
“Tell me he did not just call me a pixie,” Mae sputtered.
Callie shot Jacob a look when he laughed and then tried to cover it unsuccessfully with a cough. Callie took Mae’s hand and dragged her toward the door. “Let’s give Mr. Winters a tour of the space, and he can decide if this is a project he wants to take on.”
Callie had just unlocked the door to the bookstore when Mae poked her in the ribs, jerking her head toward the end of the block. Mrs. Dorothy Ellis barreled toward them, head held high. Sunlight glinted off of her perfectly coiffed blond hair. Her beige heels clicked on the pavement with determination.
“Shouldn’t you be in the library, Callie?” she sniffed. “What if a customer came in while you were out here loitering in the street?”
Mae drew in a sharp breath. Callie caught her eye. Her lips pressed into a thin line, a silent warning to keep her mouth shut. With an apologetic look to Jacob, Callie turned her attention back to Mrs. Ellis.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Ellis. I can clearly see if any patrons want to use the library.” Callie looked at her watch. “As a matter of fact, I have another forty-five minutes until story time. That leaves me just enough time to consult with my new contractor.”
Jacob nodded. “Good afternoon.”
Dorothy looked him up and down without returning his greeting.
“It’s bad enough that you insist on having inappropriate books in the library, selling them is a disgrace.”
Jacob snorted and rolled his eyes.
Mrs. Ellis narrowed her eyes. “And you are?”
“Jacob Winters, ma’am.”
She looked down at his outstretched hand. “You aren’t from here, Mr. Winters.” It was a statement more than a question.
“No, ma’am, I’m not. But my friend is from here and he invited me to come down. He seems to think this is a nice place to live.”
Dorothy peered at the vintage black-and-silver Harley Davidson parked on the street next to them. “Are you in a gang, Mr. Winters? We don’t appreciate your kind around here. We have enough trouble as it is,” she finished with a pointed look at Callie.
Jacob looked as though he was thoroughly enjoying the exchange. He lifted an eyebrow and crossed his arms. Didn’t he understand he was poking the dragon and any minute now she would spew fire?
“And who is this friend?” Dorothy asked, back ramrod straight.
“That would be me,” Dax announced, walking up behind his mother.
Callie’s heart fluttered. Was it from the way Dax was looking at her or from the way his mother looked at him with a glint of triumph in her eye? Was this the moment when Dax disappointed her and turned back into the mean and spiteful boy?
Mae moved closer to Callie. Instead of greeting Dax, Jacob moved to her other side, bracketing her. She felt both trapped and supported, and Dax may have been speaking to his mother, but his gaze never left hers. Callie’s stomach flip-flopped but she held her ground, even though what she really wanted to do was run back into the library and lock the door.
“Dax, you know this person?” Mrs. Ellis demanded, slipping her hand through the crook of his arm.
How many times had Callie seen them walking down the street just like that? Dorothy, her arm linked with her son’s, their heads held high, the queen of Colton and the crown prince. Callie shuddered. Everyone kept telling her Dax had changed, but time stood still when she saw him in this familiar pose.
“Jacob, glad to see you made it okay.” Dax nodded, pulling his arm out of his mother’s grasp and reaching out to shake Jacob’s hand.
Callie noticed a few of her story-time regulars heading across the park toward the library, their parents in tow. “I should get back to the library,” she said edging away from the tension between mother and son.
“Yes, you should,” Dorothy snapped.
Dax started to speak, but Callie gave a slight shake of her head. She didn’t need or want Dax defending her. Whatever game he was playing, she didn’t want any part of it. She went back into the library with Mae hot on her heels.
“She’s lucky my mother raised me to be a lady,” Mae said as soon as Callie shut the door.
They watched Dax and his mother through the window. Their voices were muffled, but the animosity was impossible to miss. Jacob stood by watching, at one point he glanced toward Callie and Mae and winked.
“Cheeky,” Mae muttered, pulling back from the window with flushed cheeks.
Callie didn’t want to like anyone who was friends with Dax, but Jacob Winters had an easygoing manner that made her feel comfortable around the big, burly man. She frowned as she picked up the pile of books she’d selected for story time.
“What’s wrong?” Mae asked.
“I can’t accept Jacob’s offer.”
“Why not?”
“One—” she ticked off on her fingers “—he’s a friend of Dax. Two, it would be accepting help from Dax, and three, Dorothy Ellis will make life hell for all of us.”
“One, who cares who he’s friends with if he can get the job done? Two, stop being silly. If you’re paying him, you’re not getting any help from anyone. And three, he’s hot,” she finished with a grin.
The door burst open with the chatter of excited children. Callie glanced outside. There was no trace of Jacob, Dax, or his mother. Thank goodness for small miracles. Dax sending his friend to help and then arguing with his mother—He was such a mama’s boy growing up, and now?
Callie pushed her jumbled thoughts aside and greeted the children with hugs and welcomed their excited chatter. Now wasn’t the time to try to understand Dax, and as far as she was concerned there never would be a good time for that. Mae picked her way through the children arranging themselves on the braided rug, smiling and nodding at the parents as she passed.
“Time for me to make my exit before these little munchkins eat me alive,” she said, under her breath.
Mae always made her intentions clear when it came to children. She would proudly take on the role of Auntie Mae, but she had no desire to have any of her own. Callie wanted nothing more than to have her own family someday, two children at least and more if possible. Her children would have siblings to play with and they would never be alone with a nanny or housekeeper.
She looked over the eager faces of the children in front of her. The children’s story hour was definitely her favorite part of the job. At the end of the hour, all of the children and their parents had left but the littlest, Travon. He climbed into her lap asking for “just one more” until he fell asleep in her arms.
At some point during story hour, Dax had slipped quietly back in, listening at the back of the room to her read. He waited patiently while Travon’s mother checked out the books Callie recommended, all the while cradling the sleeping boy until she transferred him into his mother’s arms. Travon’s mother mouthed her thanks, and Dax opened the door for them so she could slip out without waking her son.
“You’re good with kids,” he said.
“Thank you,” Callie said, gathering the books from story hour.
“I’m sorry about my mother back there.”
“Why? It’s not your fault.”
Silence stretched between them. “I read your review of that new spy thriller and I was wondering if I could check it out?” he said clearly wanting to change the subject.
“It’s checked out but I have another book from that author you might like.”
“Great.”
She went over to one of the shelves and pulled out the book and handed it to him.
“This doesn’t seem like the kind of book you would like,” she said, watching him frown at the cover.
“I usually don’t like this genre but your review made it sound so good.”
Callie plucked the book from his hands and reached for a different book. “You strike me as more of a historical fiction kind of guy; give this one a try.”
This time his lips turned up at the cover. The book was about a family living in a lo
gging town in the Oregon frontier. “I have to confess I’ve read it twice.”
“So did I,” she confessed.
With each tentative conversation she realized that they had more in common than she ever thought they would.
“I like reading about the past, it gives me perspective on the future.”
“You’re right.”
“Callie I would really like it if we could put the past behind us and be friends.”
She looked down at his outstretched hand. Friends. Dax Ellis wanted to be friends. As Callie shook his hand she wondered what other unexpected surprises a friendship with Dax was going to bring and just how much hell she was going to catch when his mother found out.
*
Jacob poked his head in the door. “Do you have a key I can have that way I won’t have to bother you?”
Callie pulled the key ring out of her pocket and slipped one of the keys off, holding it out to Jacob. “Thank you.”
“I’ll start making an inventory of any additional supplies you’ll need.”
“Thank you, Jacob. I really appreciate you taking this project on.”
“Thank Dax, he’s the one who convinced me to come down here,” he said with a wave.
“I didn’t convince him to come down here just to help with the bookstore. Jacob is my best friend and I thought he might be happy here. He was looking for a place to start his construction business and Colton needs new businesses. I just thought it was a good idea.” Dax shrugged.
Was that a tinge of embarrassment she saw in his eyes. This was a different man than the boy she knew before. He was more cautious and careful than the brash boy she remembered. It made her curious to know more.
“You don’t have to explain, Dax. You did a nice thing. Thank you.”
“Thanks Callie, I appreciate it.”
They spend a little more time together. Dax checked out two books before he left.
That night when she walked home she didn’t worry about Dax jumping out to scare her the way he used to when they were kids. Callie found herself wondering what it would be like to take a walk with Dax instead.
Chapter Nine
Dax waited on Uncle Robert’s front porch for Jacob to arrive. He still couldn’t get over his mother’s behavior. Her rudeness to Callie was intolerable, but watching her condescending attitude toward Jacob brought his anger to a boiling point.
Soon the dull roar of Jacob’s Harley could be heard in the distance. A moment later a flash of black and silver brought his friend into the driveway. He dismounted and made his way to the porch. He pulled his pack off his back, let it drop to the floor, and stood in front of Dax with his hands on his hips.
“Do you want to tell me what the hell that was back there now or after we’ve had a couple of beers?”
He forced himself to look his friend in the eye, something that should never be difficult to do. They trusted each other with their lives, and yet he hadn’t been able to share this part of his life with him. “I’m sorry, man, my mother’s behavior was inexcusable. You should have had a better welcome than that.”
“I don’t give a shit about that. What in the world is going on between you and the librarian?”
“It’s complicated. Let’s get you settled first and then I’ll try to explain.”
Dax led him into the cabin for a brief tour. Jacob craned his neck looking at the exposed trusses where the ax marks that created them could clearly be seen. He let out a low whistle. “They don’t make them like this anymore.”
“Nice to meet someone who appreciates things done the old-fashioned way,” Uncle Robert said, walking up to Jacob with his hand outstretched. “Robert Ellis, nice to meet you.”
Jacob shook his hand. “Nice to meet a friendly Ellis.”
Dax groaned.
“What happened?” Robert asked.
Dax shot his uncle a frustrated glance. “Mother was at the library.”
No other explanation was needed. Uncle Robert nodded and went to the refrigerator, pulled out three beers and headed out to the porch. Dax jerked his head and they followed him out.
“I’m sorry about my mother,” Dax started.
Jacob cut him off. “Maybe you should start with why Callie Colton is so scared of you and your mother.”
“Appreciate those protective instincts,” Dax acknowledged. A hint of jealousy mingled with approval at the way Jacob instinctively had moved to Callie’s side during the confrontation.
“I don’t think I was needed with that friend of hers,” Jacob said ruefully.
“You must have met Mae,” Robert guessed.
“He did,” Dax confirmed.
Robert stopped rocking. “She’s Callie’s best friend, and fiercest protector, but sometimes she uses her toughness as a cover.”
“Yes, sir,” Jacob answered.
Dax saw the flash of red out of the corner of his eye. Growing bolder this time, his feathered friend swooped in, landing on the porch, hopping up and down the railing. Black eyes watched carefully, judging every movement as Dax reached into the bucket of peanuts. He held up the treat for a moment before tossing it into the air.
“I bullied Callie when we were kids,” Dax said bluntly. There was no way to sugarcoat it and no reason to.
Jacob set his beer down and rested his elbows on his knees, waiting.
“It was worse than bullying.” Dax grimaced. “I threw rocks at her, called her names. I…I would have done worse if I’d had the chance.”
Jacob’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t say anything. Dax took a deep breath and continued.
“It wasn’t just Callie. I was an ass to everyone in this town. Growing up, my mother was constantly telling me how superior we were to everyone else in town, and I—” his gut clenched “—I bought into it. I was just like my mom, until Uncle Robert moved back to Colton and set me straight. Thank God he did.”
For a moment no one said anything. Uncle Robert was looking away, expression blank, but Dax could still feel the shame of the past. He despised who he’d been. He hated remembering that version of himself.
Jacob cleared his throat. “I don’t know the person you just described to me. I only know the man who has been an honest and loyal friend. But I do have one question.”
“What?”
“When did you fall in love with Callie?”
Dax stared at his friend, wide-eyed. Uncle Robert slapped his knee and barked out a laugh. There was no way in hell he was going to tell anyone about the dreams he’d been having about her.
“Okay, maybe love is too strong of a word, but you definitely have a crush on her, and I want to know what you’re going to do about it,” Jacob said.
“I don’t know,” he finally admitted.
“Well, you’d better come up with a better plan than making moon eyes and arguing with your mother.” Jacob took another swig. “And Callie sure didn’t appreciate you trying to pay for everything either.”
Uncle Robert snorted. Dax threw him a sharp look. Years of always having a plan and strategizing, all of the tactical training he’d received, completely failed him now. He had absolutely no idea what to do.
“You called for backup, and that’s a good start. You’re going to have to win over her friends and family first,” Jacob said.
“Working on it.”
“But doing things behind her back isn’t going to win her over. You need to talk to her.”
“She doesn’t want to be anywhere near me.”
“I think she’s just as conflicted as you are.” Jacob sipped his beer. “Now, what the hell is going on with your mother? Is she always that mean?”
“She’s gotten worse since I’ve been gone, but she’s always been hard to please.”
“Some people are born already dissatisfied with life,” Robert said. “Your mother has been like this as long as I’ve known her. Your mama can call a rose beautiful and complain that it has too much perfume all in the same breath. I never understood why my brother cho
se to marry her.”
Dax grimaced. “But it’s worse now than I remember.”
Uncle Robert shifted in his seat. “She didn’t take very well to Callie moving here.”
It struck Dax then that he was going to have to make a choice. His family or his principles, and he knew already, his principles would win. It was time to be the man he should be.
“I’m just not sure where to start. I’ve got the Barton Building and my consulting business up and running. Now I need to start working on becoming a part of the community.”
“Well, you could start with a haircut,” Jacob laughed. “You look like shit.”
Dax grinned. “You’re one to talk. Exactly what are you trying to hide in that beard?”
Jacob ran his hands over his unruly mane. “Hey, this is a work of art.”
Dax tugged on the curls at the nape of his neck. “I haven’t had time to drive over to Greenwood for a haircut.”
“I don’t understand. I drove by a barbershop when I came into town.”
“Hank’s is for—” Dax struggled to explain one of those strange unwritten rules of the South—that White men drove to the next town to get their hair cut while generations of Colton’s African-American community received their first and last haircuts at Hank’s. “If you’re Black you get your hair cut at Hank’s; and if you’re White you drive over to Greenwood. It’s always been that way.”
Jacob stared at him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re serious.”
“It’s ridiculous, I know,” Dax agreed.
“I’ve watched movies and read books set in the South, but for some reason I didn’t think it was real. Be honest with me: is this really about an old racist rule, or are you afraid you’ll get kicked out on your ass because of how badly you behaved before?”
“Maybe a little of both?” Dax said, even as he privately admitted that he was being a coward. He did need a haircut. And he shouldn’t continue to follow those unwritten rules of the South anymore. Dax rose. “I’ll let you get settled in here while I head back into town.”
“Where are you going?” his uncle asked, as Dax set his half-full beer bottle down.
“To get that haircut.”