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“A larger shop would be better able to handle a job this size,” he argued, “and with Dallas just up the road—”
“In other words, you think our shop will do shoddy work,” Anna interrupted hotly. “Or is it just my abilities that you doubt?”
Reeves clenched his jaw. He had studiously avoided making eye contact with her, but now he leveled a stare at her face. “I didn’t say that. I just don’t want my aunts to be embarrassed. This scholarship fund is important to them.”
Odelia laughed, her pendulous earrings wriggling. “Oh, sweetie,” she chuckled. “We’re embarrassed all the time.”
“Not that Anna Miranda has or would embarrass us,” Mags put in quickly.
“Anna Miranda is a very gifted artist, Reeves,” Hypatia told him, “and she’s a very dear girl.”
Very dear? Not the Anna Miranda he remembered. And no girl, either, he thought, not anymore. How, he wondered, did she manage to appear so casually polished and smirk at the same time? She looked…womanly, innately female, right down to that twisted little smile.
“Besides,” Anna Miranda said, “there are a surprising number of items needed, but not so many copies of each that a larger printer would find it worthwhile.”
Reeves opened his mouth to argue with that, but just then Gilli came sliding into the room in her stocking feet, her hair wet, her T-shirt and pants twisted.
“Daddy, I had a aksident and Carol made me take a bath!” she complained.
Automatically, he demanded, “What did you do?”
Mags and Auntie Od reached out to Gilli, clucking and quickly righting her clothes, while Hypatia explained that they’d had a little incident involving homemade cookies and an open bag of flour. Groaning inwardly, Reeves folded his arms.
“And just how did that bag of flour tip over, Gilli?”
Poking out her bottom lip, Gilli shrugged. “I don’t know.”
He doubted that, but she just stood there staring up at him with those wide eyes. Anna cleared her throat. Suddenly mortified that she, of all people, should witness this, Reeves made a snap decision. His daughter would not lack discipline as Anna Miranda evidently had. He would not have a brat of his own.
“Go to your room, Gilli,” he ordered, “and do not come out again until you’re called down for dinner.” Wailing, Gilli tore out of the parlor. Avoiding all gazes, especially Anna’s, Reeves said, “I apologize. I’ll make sure she’s in her room, then I think I’ll go out for a run.”
“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Magnolia offered gently.
“Try to enjoy your run, dear,” Ophelia told him, pity in her voice.
Some days his runs were all he did enjoy. Casting around a wan smile, Reeves strode out after his daughter. Tonight, he desperately wanted to run away from his troubles. Of late, those troubles all seemed female in nature. First Marissa had reminded him that she held joint custody of their daughter in a veiled attempted to make him renegotiate their divorce settlement. Then he returned to his one sanctuary to find Anna Miranda there and Gilli upsetting the household. All together, it was enough to add miles to his regular routine.
Of all his problems, however, Anna Miranda was the one he couldn’t get off his mind. She had once seemed intent on making his life miserable, and now she was at it again. He knew, as he had known even way back in school, that the best way to deal with her was to ignore her. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem able to do it now, which made no sense at all.
Then again, what in his life did?
The aunts exchanged worried glances as they settled for evening prayers.
Odelia pulled her hot pink robe tighter as she snuggled into the corner of the well-used sofa. Several dozen pink foam curlers covered her head. “It’s too bad Reeves had to work this evening,” she commented sadly. “Gilli missed him.”
Reeves had returned from his run with only enough time to hurriedly shower before sliding into his seat at the dinner table. After the meal, he’d spent the evening in his room on his laptop, while Gilli played glumly in the shared private sitting room of the aunties’ suite. Grumpy and sullen, the child had whined and fussed until Reeves had come and taken her off to bed. It had become painfully obvious that Reeves avoided the child, which was why she acted out.
“Remind you of anyone?” Hypatia asked from her chair beside the fireplace.
“Just Anna Miranda,” Mags said, dropping down beside Odelia.
“Oh, but Tansy didn’t ignore Anna Miranda,” Odelia protested.
Mags snorted. “She criticized her daylight to dark, you mean.”
“Do you remember that time Tansy scolded little Anna Miranda for plucking roses off her front bushes?” Odelia asked with a giggle.
Hypatia nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “As I recall, Anna Miranda used a pair of sewing scissors to snip off every one of Tansy’s prized blossoms. The result was a bumper crop the next year.”
All three chuckled, but then Mags sobered. “If anyone can understand Gilli, it is Anna Miranda,” she insisted.
“Well, it’s certainly not Reeves,” Hypatia said with a sigh. “I’ve tried speaking to him about it myself a time or two, but he always seems so hurt by the slightest criticism.” They all knew who was responsible for that. Marissa had destroyed Reeves’s hard-won self-esteem. “I suppose we must simply pray that God will somehow reach him.”
Was it possible, she wondered silently, that Anna Miranda might be God’s tool in this? Might she be the one to help Reeves stop hiding his heart and learn how to deal with his little girl? It occurred to her suddenly that their Heavenly Father might have something more in mind than they had yet considered.
“Oh, sisters,” she said, her eyes wide, “I fear we’ve been going about this all wrong. Think about it. What Reeves and Gilli really need is a wife and mother.”
“Someone to understand Gilli,” Magnolia murmured, comprehension beginning to glow in her eyes, “and someone to lighten Reeves’s heavy spirit.”
“Someone like Anna Miranda!” Odelia chirped.
Hypatia smiled, praising God in her heart, for He always had more in mind for His children than they themselves sometimes dared to dream. And if in this case He didn’t, well, it wouldn’t hurt to pray about the matter, would it?
Chapter Three
Sitting at her usual table in the little coffee shop across from the BCBC campus, Anna huddled over her steaming mug and yawned, trying to shake the cobwebs from her mind. She’d worked late into the night, prompted by a phone call from her grandmother, who had only just learned from some committee member that Anna was handling the BCBC fund-raiser account. As usual, Tansy had displayed no faith whatsoever in Anna’s abilities, lecturing her on the importance of the assignment and her responsibilities to her employer and the cause. Anna had hung up on her, not an uncommon occurrence, and set to work. Now she had two good reasons for wanting to do her best. To her surprise, the first appeared at her elbow.
“Hard night?”
She looked up at the handsome face of Reeves Leland, handsome but somewhat haggard despite being cleanly shaved. “I could ask the same of you.”
“Or you could just ask me to sit down.”
She looked around, saw that the other tables were full and nodded. He sprawled across the chair with a sigh, hanging an elbow on the edge of the tabletop.
“I haven’t seen you in here before.”
He slugged back coffee from the disposable cup in his hand, wincing at the heat. “I usually wait and get my caffeine at the office, but this morning I need a little extra fortification just to get there. Figured I might as well order a hot roll while I was at it.” He glanced at the counter. “Does it usually take this long?”
“Mornings are busy,” she said. “So why the extra fortification?”
He grimaced. “I worked all night, and Gilli was on a tear this morning.” He shook his head and sucked up more brew.
“Well, that makes two of us,” she said, “working late, that is.” He lifted an eyebrow. “What? You don’t think I ever put in long hours?”
“Did I say that?”
“You didn’t have to.” She cut her gaze away, muttering, “And here I thought you’d come to cry peace.”
He straightened in his chair and set his cup on the table, folding his arms behind it. “I think that’s a very good idea, actually.” She shot him a startled, wary glance, and he lifted a hand in a gesture of openness. “It wasn’t what I had in mind when I was looking around for an empty seat, but now that you mention it…” He rolled his shoulders beneath his overcoat. “I don’t see why we should be enemies over stuff that happened ages ago.”
Recalling some of that “stuff,” Anna grinned. “That’s very generous of you, Stick. You mean you forgive me for busting up your baseball bat?”
His forehead furrowed. “How did you do that? I’ve always wondered.”
“Nothing to it. I just carried it down to the tracks and waited for a train to come by, then tossed the pieces back in your yard.”
He shook his head, one corner of his mouth curling up. “Guess we should’ve let you play, huh? I almost did, but the other guys never would’ve let me forget it.”
“I didn’t think about that.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
She stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed, his eyes crinkling up around the edges. “There’s that brat again.”
It was perhaps the first time he’d ever actually laughed at her. Picking at her napkin, she tried not to read too much into it, but she couldn’t help asking, “So, you ever going to forgive me for gluing your car keys to your locker door?”
“Not a chance.” He wagged a finger at her. “Do you have any idea what that cost? I had to replace the ignition module to get a working key for the car, not to mention the locker door.”
She jerked up onto the edge of her seat. “They made you replace the locker door?”
He suddenly seemed uncomfortable. “They didn’t make me exactly.”
“But you did it anyway,” she surmised, shocked. “You must have because they didn’t make me do it.” She’d sat in two weeks of detention, but nothing had been said about financial reparation.
For several seconds Reeves sat very still. Then he tilted his head slightly and confessed, “It wouldn’t have hurt me to give you a ride that day. I never figured you’d walk all the way to school in the rain. I just thought your grandmother would take you.”
“She wasn’t there that morning,” Anna told him, “one of her committee meetings or something.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. She instantly took pity on him, saying, “Look, it’s not your fault. I could have called someone else, but after you said no, I was so mad I just struck out on foot. Later, when you dropped your keys, well, I couldn’t resist.”
He shook his head, saying softly, “Kids do stupid things.”
“Yeah, well, I think I probably did more than my fair share.”
He looked up from beneath the crag of his brow. “I think you probably did, too.”
She tried for outrage but wound up spluttering laughter. He joined in, and it was perhaps the first moment of real camaraderie they’d ever shared.
“So,” she asked, making small talk, “what were you up all night working on?”
“Aw, we’ve got this big negotiation with a new fuel provider. I was putting together the figures, trying to estimate their costs and our—” He broke off suddenly, his eyes going wide. “The figures!” He smacked himself in the forehead with the heel of his palm. “They’re in my laptop, which I left at the house! Oh, man.” On his feet before he’d finished speaking, he started for the door.
“What about your roll?”
“Uh, you eat it. I’ve gotta run. Sorry. I’ll, uh, be seeing you.”
“Right. Later. Maybe,” she said, her voice waning as he rushed out the door.
After a moment she turned back to contemplate the coffee in her mug, wondering what had just happened. Had she and Reeves Leland actually taken a step toward putting the past behind them? If so, then what else might be possible?
She was afraid even to contemplate the answer to that question.
Irritated, Reeves quietly let himself into the house via the front entry hall. He never left his laptop behind, but he’d just been so frazzled this morning. If only Gilli hadn’t awakened in the same petulant mood that she’d gone to sleep in, he might not have forgotten the thing. Sneaking about made him cringe, but he took care to walk softly just the same. The last thing he wanted was for Gilli to see him and pitch another fit for him to stay home—as if he could! He had almost passed by the open door of the front parlor when the sound of his own name brought him to an abrupt halt.
“Reeves is perfect!”
Well, that was nice to hear, but what followed knocked the breath out of him.
“He’s perfect for Anna Miranda! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier.”
“Now, Tansy,” Aunt Hypatia said, an edge to her voice that none of her nephews or nieces would dare to ignore, “don’t get carried away. It’s just a thought, a matter for prayer. Odelia was simply mentioning a possibility in passing, one she would have done better to keep to herself, obviously.”
“There must be something I can do,” Tansy went on, ignoring Hypatia. “Anna never has more than a few dates with a fellow. If I leave it to her, she’ll never marry.”
Reeves had his doubts about that. Plenty of men were bound to be interested in a woman as attractive and clever as Anna Miranda. Just not him. True, he’d seen a different side of her this morning, a compelling side, but she had demonstrated that the brat was ready and willing to reemerge at a moment’s notice, and he had no intention of dealing with that. Best to nip the idiotic notion in the bud right now. Sucking in a deep breath, he strode through the doorway.
Hypatia winced as Odelia exclaimed with innocent delight. “Reeves! We were just talking about you.” Red enamel hoops a good two inches wide dangled from her earlobes.
“So I heard.”
Mags asked warily, “Shouldn’t you be at work?”
Reeves gave her a frown. “Yes, and I would be if I hadn’t left my laptop in my room.” He settled a narrow look on Tansy Burdett, adding, “Fortunately.”
“Reeves, dear,” Hypatia began apologetically, “please don’t think—”
“No, no,” Tansy interrupted, getting to her feet. “Do think about it. You need a wife. My granddaughter needs a husband.”
Reeling from that pronouncement, Reeves watched as she drew herself up to her full height, which must have been all of five feet, including the tall thick heels of her brown pumps and the helmet-like perfection of her chin-length, pale yellow hair. Slight and angular, with sharp features and faded blue eyes, she wore a white cotton blouse and a straight skirt beneath a boxy jacket.
“And that’s all there is to it?” he scoffed, incredulous.
Lifting her chin, Tansy met him eye to eye and proclaimed, “You’re a good Christian man with a sound head on your shoulders, despite the mistake you made the first time around. Besides, Anna Miranda’s always had a thing for you.”
Now that was absurd. Anna Miranda had a thing for him, all right. He’d always been her favorite target, a butt for jokes, a subject for pranks, an object of ridicule.
“I have no intention of marrying again,” Reeves said to Tansy, exasperated, “and certainly not to—” He couldn’t even say it. Anna Miranda Burdett and him? Instead, he turned on his aunties, focusing on Hypatia. “Surely you do not believe that she…we…. Tell me you haven’t been matchmaking.”
“Now, Reeves,” Hypatia said calmly, “it was nothing more than idle chatter. We merely agreed to pray about it, that’s all.”
“Pray as you like, Aunt Hypatia,” he grit out, “but leave my private life to me!” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he had done just that, which was why he winced and said, “Sorry.”
“No offense taken, dear,” Hypatia remarked meekly. “It’s just that we’re so concerned for you and Gilli.”
“She needs a mother, dear,” Odelia put in.
“She has a mother,” he snapped, knowing that in Marissa’s case it was little more than a title, despite the allusions and veiled threats of late.
Marissa continued to complain of financial difficulty, and lately she’d started mentioning that she missed Gilli. For their daughter’s sake, he wished that were so, but he knew better. Marissa had no more desire to see Gilli than she’d had to give birth to her. He regretted offering her joint custody now, but at the time he’d hoped she would actually use it to be part of their daughter’s life, not browbeat him for money.
And they thought they could convince him to marry again!
All three of the aunties bowed their heads in contrition. Tansy merely flattened her mouth and tugged at the hem of her jacket, sharp chin aloft, before dropping back down into her chair with a huff.
Reeves pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, and counted to ten before carefully saying, “Look, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t want any more talk about matchmaking, not with Anna Miranda, not with anyone. Is that clear?” The aunts gave him nods and wan smiles. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he managed, “I have to get to the office.” Turning on his heel, he swiftly left the room and headed for the stairs.
Behind him, he heard Odelia say, “Poor Reeves.”
“No more matchmaking talk,” Hypatia instructed quickly.
Poor Reeves. How pathetic. The thought of the aunties meddling in his life both shocked and hurt, but he knew that he really had no one to blame except himself. He had mucked it all up. Sighing, he hurried up the stairs, intent on getting that laptop and out of the house before anything else could happen to delay him.
But he could not get over the thought of Anna Miranda and him as a couple.
Wherever would the aunts get such a preposterous idea? Anna Miranda Burdett and him! He wondered how long it would be before he could get that ridiculous notion out of his head.
Anna’s determination to show Reeves that his aunts were right to trust her with this project only grew after their meeting in the coffee shop. That resolve turned a couple days of work into four, but excitement gripped her as she waited at the sunny yellow, black-framed door at the front of the enormous house late that next Friday afternoon. Chester Worth, the Chatam’s long-time driver and houseman, opened it for her.
“Miss Anna, come on in here out of the cold.”
“Thank you, Chester.” She held a soft spot for Chester, who had never in her memory referred to her as anything but Miss Anna. “I called ahead. The Chatams should be expecting me.”
“They surely are. Miss Hypatia and Miss Odelia are in the parlor, and Miss Magnolia will join y’all shortly. I’ll bring in the tea soon as she shows up.”
Anna smiled. “I’ll let the others know.”
Chester went on his way, and Anna walked into the spacious, elegant front parlor. Odelia hopped up and hurried forward to hug her, chains of orange crystals hanging from her earlobes. She wore a long, multi-colored, gathered skirt with a melon pink blouse, wide black belt and purple vest. Hypatia, in contrast, looked the picture of prim wealth in a tailored, moss-green pantsuit and pearls. She, too, rose and came to meet Anna with a smile and handclasp.
They were still exchanging greetings when Mags trundled into the room, smelling of loam and flowers. She seemed to own only one dress, or else they all looked alike. This one she wore with a pair of brown slacks, a moth-eaten gray cardigan and red-rimmed black galoshes. Anna managed not to laugh. Mags beamed back at her and plopped down on the settee.
Anna quickly extracted three copies of four designs from her portfolio, passing them to the sisters. They were still exclaiming over her nature design when Chester arrived with the tea tray. A quarter-hour later, they sat balancing delicate, steaming Limoges teacups on matching saucers while Anna explained the second design to them. Odelia, predictably, gushed, but Mags screwed up her face at the ribbons and lace, while Hypatia made the sort of nice comments that one made when complimenting a beaming bride in a particularly heinous gown. She was obviously better pleased with the “biblical” design that followed.
Finally, Anna introduced the fourth rendering. “This,” she said neutrally, “is something of a combination of the other three in what I like to think of as the definitive Chatam House spirit.”
The effect was immediate, gasps, clattering of cups and saucers, oohs of pleasure.
“Anna Miranda,” Hypatia exclaimed, holding out the sheet to gaze at it, “this is…”
“Gorgeous!” Odelia finished for her.
Mags actually sniffed. “Those are magnolias in the swag, aren’t they?”
“Seemed apt,” Anna told her with a fond, pleased smile.
Hypatia placed the sheet of paper reverently atop the piecrust tea table and folded her hands. “Well, I think it’s obvious—”
Suddenly Odelia interjected herself. “Oh, but the romantic one is so…romantic.”
Mags sat up straight. “What are you talking about?”
“Now, I know you prefer the nature one,” Odelia cut in, “but this is an important decision. It needs time.” Ophelia tapped the little watch pendant pinned to her blouse and waved obliquely toward the door.
Mags stared at her for a moment then her eyebrows shot up. “But he said—”
“Talk,” Odelia interrupted hurriedly. “No more talk. E-except about the design.”
Mags blinked at that then she cleared her throat. “Ah. Well, it’s just that m-my idea is the best. Uh, the way Anna Miranda has designed it, that is.”
“Now, sisters,” Hypatia began sternly, but once more Odelia charged in.
“You don’t agree that we should talk about the designs a little more?”
Hypatia seemed uncomfortable. She actually fidgeted, shifting her trim weight side to side. Anna sat fascinated, not at all certain what was going on but entranced by the sisterly byplay. She said not a word as Odelia and Magnolia entered into a spirited debate of their individual preferences.
Some minutes later, Chester entered to remove the tea tray. Bending over it, he looked straight at Odelia and announced, “Mr. Reeves is home.”
With that, he straightened and exited the room. Odelia popped up and scuttled after him as far as the doorway. At the same time, footsteps could be heard in the back of the central hallway. Odelia produced a lace-edged hanky, which she began waving.
“Yoo-hoo! Reeves, dear! Can you help us please?”
Several heartbeats passed, during which the only sound was that of Hypatia softly moaning. Finally, Reeves said, “Of course.”
Anna twisted in her chair and leaned over the arm to watch Odelia grasp his elbow and pull him bodily into the parlor.
“We just can’t decide,” she trilled, tugging him forward. “Anna Miranda’s done such a marvelous job for us, but we just can’t agree. Give us your opinion, won’t you?”
She hauled him over to the table, where Magnolia laid out the four options for him. Reeves slid a hooded glance at Anna before quickly bending over the table. Anna held her breath. After a moment, he turned a look in her direction, surprised appreciation in his copper-brown eyes.
“These are quite good.”
She managed a blasé nod and a dry, “Thanks.”
He went back to the designs, tapping the fourth with the tip of one forefinger. “This one’s the best.”
Anna stifled a crow of delight.
“Well,” Hypatia said, sounding relieved, “that’s that.”
Odelia jerked, all but physically throwing herself back into the fray. “Oh, but…what about the staff?”
“The staff?” Mags echoed.
“They ought to have a say in this. We’ll be depending on them, after all, to keep everything running smoothly the night of the auction.”
“Odelia,” Hypatia said wearily, pressing her fingertips to her temples.
Undetered, Odelia began gathering up the designs. “I know, we’ll take these back to the kitchen.” She nudged her sisters to their feet. “We’ll each make our case, and see what Chester, Hilda and Carol have to say. That seems fair, doesn’t it?”