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But Annabeth’s response was entirely unexpected.
A large smile blossomed on her face and she touched the discolored skin almost reverently. “It’s you,” she said, her voice tinged with delight. “You finally came.”
Callie’s heart hitched painfully as she expelled the breath she’d been holding. “Annabeth, do you know who I am?”
The child nodded emphatically. “Oh, yes. You’re the lady Daddy said was going to come live with us, to be my new mommy.” Her face took on a more somber expression. “I was so scared you wouldn’t come since Daddy wasn’t here anymore.”
“Oh, sweetheart, there wasn’t any reason to worry.” Callie smoothed the child’s hair. “I came here as much to be with you as with your daddy.”
Callie’s heart lightened at this further evidence that Leland had never wavered in his commitment to keep his promise. “So, your daddy told you about me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Annabeth smiled. “He said we were lucky you were coming to stay with us, that you were a friend of Momma’s ever since she was my age. But it was supposed to be a secret so he could tell Aunt Nell and Uncle Jed first.” She gave Callie an anxious look. “I didn’t tell anyone, I promise.”
Callie touched the child’s cheek. “I know you didn’t, sweetie. Your daddy would be very proud of you. But how did you know I was the one?”
“Because of what daddy said about you. He told me you were very special because you have angel kisses on the side of your face.”
A lump formed in Callie’s throat. That’s what Julia used to say when they were little girls. It had always made her feel so special.
Annabeth stared deep into her eyes. “Do you think my daddy is up in heaven getting angel kisses, too?”
Callie pulled the child onto her lap. “Of course I do. And your mommy is right there with him. I imagine both of them are watching you and smiling at how brave you are.”
Annabeth gave a satisfied nod and then threw her arms around Callie in a tight embrace.
Callie buried her face in the child’s curls, feeling an immediate bond with her. The fierceness of her desire to cherish and protect Julia’s child was almost frightening.
Dear God, please don’t put this sweet child into my life just to separate us again. If it be Your will, help me make Lanny’s brother understand that I need to be here.
She glanced up to find Jack staring at her, frowning uncertainly. Surely he could see how right it was that she have some hand in the child’s upbringing, couldn’t he?
But Annabeth wasn’t the only child who needed reassurances here. Callie gave Julia’s daughter one last squeeze. Then she put her down and stood, looking at the other two children. “You must be Simon and Emma Carson. I’m a very good friend of your Aunt Julia, and I came here to live with Annabeth.”
Neither child said anything, but their gazes remained locked on the red splotch that marred Callie’s face.
Callie drifted closer, casually pulling her bonnet back in place and tying the ribbons as she did so. “Your Aunt Julia and I used to write to each other. Her letters were quite long and wonderful. She shared all kinds of things about this town and her favorite people here. And that included you two, of course.”
“It did?” Emma seemed more at ease now that Callie’s bonnet was back in place.
“What kind of things did she say about us?” Simon’s voice held a note of challenge.
“Well, I know you’re eleven years old, that you’re a good student, and that you’re also good at building things.”
Simon seemed surprised by her words, but she noticed his chest puffed out with pride a bit.
Callie turned to Emma. “And as for you, young lady, you are eight years old and your Aunt Julia thought you were a very fine artist. She said you were always drawing her the prettiest pictures. Her favorites were the ones with flowers and rainbows.”
“I like to draw,” Emma acknowledged. She finally met Callie’s gaze. “Why do you call it angel kisses?”
Callie was relieved the girl was comfortable enough to talk about it. As Mrs. Mayweather had said earlier, children were usually much more forthright in confronting the subject than adults.
“I was born with this mark,” she explained. “Sometimes, when your Aunt Julia and I were little girls, she would tell me that she thought it was there because just before God sent me down to be with my parents, one of his angels bent over and kissed me on the cheek.”
Emma studied Callie’s face, as if trying to see past the bonnet. “Does it hurt?”
“Not at all. It’s always been just a part of who I am.” Callie gently touched a spot near the corner of Emma’s mouth. “Just like this little mole right here is a part of you.”
“Oh.” Emma’s hand reached for the spot Callie had touched. “And like my friend Molly’s freckles?”
“That’s right. But I tell you what. I know it’s a little scary right at first. So why don’t I just keep this bonnet on for the time being, at least until we get to know each other better.”
Emma nodded. Then her brow furrowed. “What are we supposed to call you?”
Caught off guard, Callie glanced up at Jack. She had no real claim on Simon and Emma. But, then again, she had been married to their uncle. She turned back to Emma. “Why don’t you just call me Aunt Callie?”
“Aunt Callie.” Emma tried out the name, then nodded approval. “That’s nice.”
“That’s settled then.”
“So you will be living at the farm with us.” Annabeth made the pronouncement with all the confidence of a self-assured four-year-old.
Jack cleared his throat and Simon started to voice another protest.
But Mrs. Mayweather stepped in before either of them got very far. “Children.” With that one word, she claimed everyone’s attention. “Why don’t the three of you go outside and check on Cookie. Simon, there is a bone left over from yesterday’s supper on the kitchen counter that you may take to him.”
Once the children left the room, Jack turned to Mrs. May-weather. “I want to thank you again for taking them in until I could get here.” He rubbed the back of his neck again. “I suppose I should ask them to pack up their things so we can head on over to the farm.”
Callie sat up straighter. No! He was not going to sidestep her claim that easily. Those children needed her. “I don’t believe that is your decision to make, Mr. Tyler.”
He frowned. “We’ve already—”
She cut off his attempt to play the kin card again. “As your brother’s widow, I believe I should have some say as to who will be staying at the farm.”
“Are you saying you want to go out there yourself?”
“I don’t—”
Mrs. Mayweather held up a hand to halt their discussion. “It appears to me that the two of you have some things to work out in respect to the children’s future. After all, you only learned the full extent of the situation a few hours ago.”
“It seems pretty cut and dried to me,” Jack groused.
Mrs. Mayweather drew herself up. “Jackson Garret Tyler, I will thank you to mind your tone when you are in my home.”
Apparently it didn’t matter how old Jack was—he would always be a recalcitrant schoolboy to Mrs. Mayweather. Callie carefully swallowed a grin.
Jack mumbled an apology, chafing under Mrs. Mayweather’s obvious censure.
He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him today. One minute he was breaking out in a cold sweat at the thought of taking sole responsibility for the three kids, and the next he was ready to fight to the death against anyone who’d dare try to take that privilege from him.
Mrs. Mayweather smoothed her skirts and gave them both equally stern looks. “Now, you’ve had a long day, both physically and emotionally. This is probably not the best time for you to make any major decisions.”
Callie nodded. “I agree. It would be best if we spent a little more time seeking guidance in this matter.”
Jack bit back a retort. There she went with that “seeking guidance” talk again. Didn’t the woman know how to make a decision on her own? Or did she think her delaying tactics would give her some sort of advantage in their tug-of-war?
Mrs. Mayweather, however, didn’t give him an opportunity to voice his objections. “Quite sensible. I insist the children stay here with me another night or two, while you two get everything worked out. It would be criminal to uproot them again before there is some certainty as to where they will live and with whom.” She looked from Callie to Jack. “Are we agreed?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Callie’s response was quick and confident.
No surprise there. It was exactly what she wanted—time to build her case. But he couldn’t come up with an argument that didn’t sound petty, so, under Mrs. Mayweather’s stern gaze, he had no choice but to follow suit. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Very well. Jackson, you are welcome to stay for supper. The more time you and Callista spend in the children’s company, the better for everyone. Afterward, I suggest you spend the night at the farm. It will relieve Virgil of the responsibility of taking care of the chores in the morning. You may use my horse and buggy to get there.”
She rose as if the matter were settled. Which he supposed it was.
His brother’s widow stood uncertainly. “I suppose I should get a room at the hotel.”
Mrs. Mayweather frowned. “Nonsense. You’ll stay here with me and the children.”
She held up a hand, halting any protest Callie might make. “This is no time to stand on ceremony. Your presence has already made such a difference to Annabeth. She’s spoken more in these past few minutes than she has the last four days.”
Jack frowned at this point in Callie’s favor in their battle for guardianship of the children.
“Besides,” Mrs. Mayweather continued, “you can help me with some of the extra chores that have resulted from the presence of the children.”
That seemed to seal the deal for Callie. “Of course. Thank you.”
There was a feeling of feminine conspiracy to this. Not that the arrangement didn’t make sense from a strictly logistical standpoint. The only problem was, it let his sister-in-law have free rein with the kids while he was exiled to the farm. Which gave her a leg up in winning the children’s favor.
He’d have to find a way to level the field.
Callie had mixed emotions that evening as she watched Jack walk out Mrs. Mayweather’s kitchen door.
Just as when he’d started to walk away from her beside the stagecoach this afternoon, she felt as if a lifeline was slipping away from her, leaving her stranded in unfamiliar territory.
Strange. As stubborn as the man was, she felt they’d formed a connection of sorts. After all, when he wasn’t being so pig-headedly combative over the matter of the children, he was actually nice. And even in that matter, one had to admire a man who was willing to take his perceived responsibilities so much to heart.
Callie turned away from the door with a tired sigh.
So much had happened today. It had begun with her looking forward to starting life as a wife and a mother, and ended with the discovery that she was a widow who would have to fight to maintain her claim on her stepchild. What a welcome to Texas. Her father would—
Oh, no! She raised a hand to her mouth and spun around to face her hostess.
“My goodness, dear, you look as if you just burned Sunday dinner and the preacher’s at the door. Whatever is it?”
“I promised my family I’d send a telegraph when I arrived so they would know I was safe. It slipped my mind until just now.” She grimaced. “I hate to impose, but would you have a piece of paper and a pen I could use?” Silly of her to feel this sense of urgency since she wouldn’t be able to send the telegram until tomorrow. But doing this would provide a small bit of normalcy to a day that had spun out of control.
A few minutes later, Callie sat at a small desk tucked in the parlor. She dipped the pen in the inkwell, then paused.
What would she say? How much should she say?
Her family worried about her so. No good would be served by adding to their concerns. After all, she had confidence that God would see her through this.
But she couldn’t lie to them.
Best to keep it short and non-committal for the moment. Nodding to herself, she quickly jotted down three sentences.
Have arrived safely in Sweetgum. Already made new friends who have welcomed me warmly. Will send a letter with further news soon.
As she set the pen down, Callie’s thoughts turned to resuming her battle of wits with Jackson Garret Tyler in the morning.
Surprisingly, her feeling about this was not dread—but anticipation.
Chapter Seven
Jack clicked his tongue, encouraging the horse to pick up the pace as the sun edged lower on the horizon. Not that he needed daylight to find his way. Even after eleven years, the road was as familiar to him as his own face.
He’d already made a quick stop at Virgil’s place to let him know he wouldn’t need to worry about handling the chores at the Tyler farm any longer. Luckily he’d caught Virgil out in the barn so he hadn’t had to spend time on pleasantries with his friend’s family. There’d be time enough for neighborly visits in the days to come.
Jack didn’t really consider himself a sentimental man, so the little kick of expectation that hit him when he turned the buggy onto the familiar drive surprised him.
As soon as the house came into full view, he tugged on the reins, halting the horse and buggy. The sight that greeted him was at once soul-deep familiar and strangely foreign.
The same two-story gabled structure sat on the lawn like a fat hen guarding her nest.
The same large oak tree spread its made-for-climbing branches over the left side of the lawn.
The same red barn pointed its cupola to the sky.
But Lanny and Julia, not to mention Father Time, had made noticeable changes. There was now a roomy swing on one end of the wraparound front porch. The oak tree was several feet taller and its branches shaded a much larger patch of ground than Jack remembered. And the gray-and-black speckled dog that came bounding from behind the barn was nothing like ole Clem.
With another flick of the reins, Jack directed the horse around the house and into the barn.
There were several changes in here as well. The old buggy had been replaced with a roomier one and it seemed Lanny had invested in some interesting-looking tools and equipment. It might be worth his while to do a little exploring in here when he had some time.
But for now he had to take care of bedding down the animals while there was still light enough to see by. He gave the energetic dog a bit of attention, then unhitched the horse and patted the animal as it moved past him toward the water trough.
As he worked at the chores that had once been second nature, his mind wondered over the day’s happenings.
Callie was a puzzle to him. Her intentions and determination were admirable, but he didn’t believe she understood what she was up against. Such an obviously sheltered city girl would have a hard time adjusting to life in a place like this. Especially now that she didn’t have a husband to smooth the way for her.
Still, there was something about the woman, something about the way she faced a fracas head-on rather than shying away that he found intriguing.
Had her life back in Ohio been so terrible that even with what had happened, she—
Jack gave his head a shake. He’d let her get under his skin. He had to remember that her personal problems were no concern of his. She wanted to challenge his claim to Annabeth, and that made her his opponent.
He gave the carriage horse one last brush with the currycomb then patted her again, sending her into an empty stall.
