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
