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.
Once he’d fed and watered the other animals and taken care of the evening milking, Jack headed for the house. As he climbed the porch steps he ran a hand over the familiar support post. The etched image of a rearing horse his father had carved into the wood one rainy summer afternoon was still discernable, even under the layer of new paint.
Family mattered. Shared history mattered. That was something only he could offer those kids.
Jack stepped inside, noting the addition of a new screen door as he passed. He wandered through the first floor, feeling strangely disoriented by the mix of the familiar and the new. Everywhere he looked he could see where Julia and Lanny’s lives together had left a lasting imprint on the Tyler family home. New curtains here, a new chair there. A tin type picture of Julia’s parents now shared space on the mantle with those of the Tyler family. There was also a tintype of Lanny and Julia. Julia held an infant on her lap.
He soon discovered a room had been tacked on to the back of the house. Inside sat a shiny porcelain bathtub and some new-fangled laundry equipment. A hand pump stood against the far wall, sprouting from the back lip of a large metal sink. Next to the sink, a small iron fire box supported a large kettle, ready to heat the water when needed. Large windows set high on three of the four walls would provide ventilation without sacrificing privacy. Someone had even strung a cord below the rafters, no doubt to be used for hanging wet laundry when the weather made it uncomfortable to do so outside.
Not for the first time Jack admired his brother’s ingenuity. He could see how this setup would have been a great convenience for Julia. And it would make his life here with the kids that much easier, too.
Jack climbed the stairs, curious to see the bedchambers.
