To Have And To Hold: Made for Marriage / To Wed a Rancher / The Mummy Proposal

Callie relaxed fractionally. Until Jamie repeated his question about liking spiders. She had an awful thought he might have one in a jar for her to inspect. Within seconds he was off down the hallway. Callie dropped her tote by the sofa and moved toward the mantel. About a dozen framed photographs caught her attention. Most of them were of the children, and one was of three women. Callie recognized Evie and could see the resemblance in the striking woman beside her with dark hair and perfectly symmetrical features. The other woman, clearly younger, looked familiar, and Callie remembered M.J. from the Twilight Fair. An older couple, his parents for sure because she recognized his mother, filled another shot and then there was a picture of Noah with Cameron, both holding up a fish on a hook and both laughing in a way that only best friends could.

There were no pictures of his ex-wife and she wondered why she thought there might be. Perhaps she just wanted to get a look at the woman who had borne his children and the woman he had loved.

Callie looked at the picture of the twins again and a familiar ache filled her heart.

But she wouldn’t think about Ryan tonight … she wouldn’t make comparisons. And she wouldn’t envy Noah his beautiful, perfect children.

Jamie returned with a heavy book and patted a spot on the sofa. Callie sat down and spent ten minutes listening to him talk about and show pictures of the most hideous-looking arachnids she felt certain would give her nightmares for weeks. But he was a charming boy, polite and very smart and quite mature for his age.

Noah came back into the room without the twins. “They’re playing in their bedroom until dinner,” he said. He looked at Jamie and smiled. “Hey, mate, how about you go and join Hayley and Matthew?”

“But, Callie has—”

“Seen enough crawlies for one night. Off you go.”

Jamie disappeared without another protest and the air thickened between them almost instantly.

“I hope he didn’t freak you out too much.”

“A little.” she said, shuddering. “He’s a lovely child. You should be proud of him.”

“I am,” he replied. “Join me in the kitchen?”

Callie stood and followed him down a short hallway.

The Tasmanian oak kitchen impressed her as much as the rest of the house. She walked to the window and glanced outside. Beyond the patio there was a pool, a hot tub and a gloriously lush garden.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked and grabbed two bottles from a rack above the refrigerator. “Red or white?”

She chose the Merlot and watched as he pulled the cork and poured two glasses.

“Thanks.” She took the glass and leaned against the granite countertop. She sipped her wine. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you. We’ve only been here a couple of years.” He drank some wine, then grabbed a pot and filled it with water. “I bought the place after my divorce.”

So his ex had never lived here? She was instantly curious. “Did you have a bitter breakup?”

Surprisingly, he answered. “I guess you could call it that.” He flicked on the gas.

Still curious, she asked another question. “Why doesn’t she see the children?”

He pulled out a few items and dumped them on the counter. “She lives in Paris with her elderly mother. When she’s not in rehab.”

Callie gasped.

“Prescription meds,” he explained. “Or at least that’s how it started for Margaret.”

She had a name. “Is that why she left?” Callie asked.

Noah stopped what he was doing and turned toward her. “She left because she didn’t want to be married to me anymore.”

He smiled then but without humor. “Hard to imagine, eh? The addiction started afterward.”

Callie allowed herself to hold his gaze.

She felt a strong surge of compassion and deep feeling. But before she could say anything he passed her a paring knife. “Can you make the salad?”

Callie took the knife. “I … I guess. But I should warn you, I’m not much of a cook.”

He laughed. “It’s salad, Callie—it doesn’t need cooking.”

“I could still mess it up,” she said, trying to push back the color tinting her cheeks.

“Watch and learn.”

They worked in silence for a while. Callie chopped and diced vegetables while Noah stirred the sauce simmering in a large saucepan and popped linguini into boiling water.

“That smells good,” she said and sipped her wine.

He replaced the lid on the same container. “I can’t take the credit, I’m afraid.”

She placed a hand to her mouth in mock horror. “Store-bought? I’m devastated.”

“Evie,” he corrected. “She often doubles up on portions when she has guests staying at the B and B. She takes pity on my single-father status. Actually, I’m pretty sure she thinks I feed the kids macaroni and cheese five nights a week.”

“And you don’t?”

“Only three nights. Gotta squeeze the frozen pizzas in, too.”

Callie chuckled. “Please tell me you’re not serious?”

Noah put up one hand in a Boy Scout salute. “I’m not serious. They eat vegetables—even those horrible slimy green ones.”

As if on cue, the children returned to the kitchen. Callie remained by the countertop, working on her salad but also watching as Jamie set the table, so serious in his task, his little tongue clicking in his mouth as he straightened cutlery and placed paper napkins beside each place setting. The twins hovered, one each side of her, stepping back and forth on small feet, as though wanting her attention.

She smiled and asked them about their daycare teachers, and Hayley immediately began to tell her everything about a usual day in the classroom. Callie listened, still chopping.

“Can I have some of that?” Hayley asked as Callie cut a carrot.

She nodded and gave them each a little piece of vegetable, which they took with eager fingers and ate just as quickly. A few moments later she did the same with a couple of snow peas. And again with a sliver of cucumber. Their infectious giggles echoed around the kitchen.

“I like having a grown-up girl here, Daddy,” Hayley announced and Matthew nodded in agreement.

Callie stopped chopping and stood still. She glanced toward Noah and saw he’d stopped his task also. He was staring at her, a deeply smoldering stare that made her knees weak.

“So do I,” he said quietly.

And then, without warning, Hayley hugged her, gripping Callie’s leg as hard as her small arms would allow. Callie stilled her task, rooted to the spot. Her heart surged in her chest. Suddenly she was all feelings. All anguish. All memory. All hurt. The little girl lingered, waiting, and Callie instinctively knew what the child wanted.

She placed the knife on the counter. I can’t do this. I can’t.

But she did. She reached down and touched Hayley’s head, without looking anywhere but directly at the wall in front of her. Her fingertips felt the soft, little-girl hair and her womb contracted instantly, rolling like a wave. Hayley lifted her chin and Callie’s hand touched her face.

Oh, God … help me here. Help me not want this. Help me not feel this.

Her throat felt suddenly thick, burning with emotion. All her fears, all her longings bubbled to the surface. She looked at Noah again and sighed. How could she possibly explain what she felt? To explain would mean to be exposed, to be vulnerable, naked in front of him.

Hayley giggled and Callie patted her head gently a couple of times before removing her hand. Once she’d broken the connection her womb flipped again, but differently this time. She felt empty, bereft.

She looked at Noah then and saw he was watching her with such searing intensity she had to lean against the counter for support. But to have his child? An adorable child like Hayley. What a dream that would be.

Not a dream. A fantasy.

“Hayley, take your seat,” Noah said quietly. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

The kids all whooped and raced for their favorite spot at the table.

“This is done,” Callie said and grabbed the bowl.

Meals were usually a quiet affair for Callie. She ate alone most of the time, unless Fiona was around or she offered to make lunch for Joe. But this was something else. The kind of meal she remembered from her childhood, when the kitchen had been the centerpiece of the home. Lots of laughter, lots of spillage and wipe-ups and grubby faces.

Family.

Another woman’s family, she reminded herself.

But I’m here … and I feel such a part of them. Like somehow … I was made for this.

Callie’s salad was a success, with Jamie kindly telling her it was the best he’d tasted—even better than his Aunt Evie’s.

Afterward, she volunteered to load the dishwasher while Noah put the twins to bed with a story. Jamie chatted to her as she worked, telling her about school and how Fiona was his favorite teacher and how he liked to make things and that he wanted to learn to play the trumpet. Then he told her he would choose a movie to watch and disappeared down the hallway. By the time Noah returned, the kitchen sparkled and the coffeemaker gurgled.

“I helped myself,” she said. “Although I can’t find any cups.”

He opened a high cupboard, extracted a pair of matching mugs and placed them on the counter. “Milk, no sugar.”

The way she liked hers, too.

Jamie reappeared, clutching Madagascar in one hand and a Harry Potter sequel in the other. They unanimously chose Madagascar. Callie took her coffee into the living room and sat down in the corner of the long sofa. She placed her coffee on the side table. Jamie said something secretly to his father then excused himself and raced down the hall.

“He likes you,” Noah said quietly as he set up the DVD player.

“How do you know that?”

He turned his head and smiled. “You’ll see.”

Jamie returned a few minutes later. He asked her to hold out her hand and dropped something onto her palm. She stared at the thin leather strip threaded with dark, shiny stones.

“It’s a bracelet,” he said, pointing to the stones. “They’re hematites.”

Callie touched the smooth stones. “It’s lovely.”

“I made it,” he announced proudly. “You can have it.”

“You made this?” she held it up. “You’re very clever. But I couldn’t possibly take it.”

He looked so disappointed she longed to snatch the words back. “You don’t like it?”

Callie rubbed the stones again. “Of course I do. I just thought that if you made something this pretty you might want to give it to someone … like a girl.”

Jamie frowned. “You’re a girl.”

“Smart kid,” Noah said as he sat at the other end of the sofa. “My sister Mary-Jayne makes jewelry,” he explained. “She lets the kids craft pieces when they stay with her.” He looked at his son. “He doesn’t part with them easily.”

Noah watched her reaction. She looked increasingly uncomfortable. Jamie was a warm, generous child and incredibly easy to love. And although she’d interacted appropriately all evening, he sensed something else was happening to her.

His suspicions were elevated. Was it him making her nervous? Noah couldn’t be sure. In the kitchen she’d been relaxed and chatty. When it was just the two of them she usually looked fired up and ready for anything. But then Hayley had hugged her, and Noah had witnessed reluctance in her response to his daughter. The realization landed on his shoulders.

The kids … it was the kids. He felt sure of it.

How can she not like my kids? They’re unbelievable. Everyone likes my kids.

Finally, she spoke. “In that case, I would love to keep this. Thank you.”

That settled, he flicked the play button and sank back into the sofa. With Jamie between them she seemed light years away from him. Which was probably exactly how she wanted it.

Jamie fell asleep after about twenty minutes. Noah gathered him up and carried him to his bedroom. He tucked him in bed, kissed his forehead and returned to the living room.

She hadn’t moved. He flipped the DVD to a CD and waited until the music filtered around the room before heading back to the sofa.

“Would you like some more wine?” he asked before he sat.

She shook her head. “I should probably go home.”

Noah glanced at the clock on the wall. It was barely nine o’clock. He didn’t want her to go. He had to say what was on his mind. “I’m not a threat to you, Callie.”

She looked into her lap. “I know that.”

“So why do you want to leave?”

She expelled an unsteady breath. “Because being here I feel … involved.” She stopped, looked away. “I feel involved with you.”

Suddenly there was something very raw about her. “Would that be so bad?”

She looked back toward him. “No,” she said on a breath. “Yes … I can’t—”

“I’m not your ex, Callie,” he said bluntly. “And if you screwed up, and if you chose the wrong person to give your heart to, don’t feel alone. Just get in line.”

“Did you screw up?” she asked.

“With Margaret?” he nodded. “For sure. But I should never have married her in the first place.” He shrugged. “She was pregnant with Lily,” he explained. Not, I loved her. To say he’d truly loved Margaret would have been a lie. “We had a baby coming. It seemed the right thing to do.”

She smiled fractionally. “It was the right thing to do.”

In the beginning he’d believed so. Especially the day he’d held his newborn in his hands. But later he’d wondered if they should have considered a shared custody arrangement of their daughter instead of a marriage between two people who were never suited to one another.

She looked at him, hesitated, and then took a steadying breath. “My fiancé wasn’t who I thought he was.”

“Was he unfaithful?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think so.” She dropped her gaze for a moment, then turned back to look at him. “He was killed in a car wreck four years ago.”

It wasn’t what he’d been expecting and Noah saw the walls close around her as if they were made from stone. A cheating, dishonest spouse was a whole lot easier to compete with than a ghost. “And you’re still grieving?”

She gave him an odd look. “Most of the time I’m simply … numb.”

He reached across and took her hand. “Can you feel that?” he asked as he stroked her forefinger with his thumb.

She looked to where their hands lay linked. “Yes.”

“Then you’re not numb, Callie.” Noah fought the impulse to drag her into his lap. He wanted her so badly he could barely breathe. “You just fell in love with the wrong man.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “I know.”

“So maybe we’ll both get it right next time.”

For a moment she looked like she wanted to be hauled into his arms. He was tempted. Very tempted. But the look lasted only a moment.

She grabbed her tote. He could see her walls closing in, could see her shutting down. “I should go.”

He knew the evening was over. “I’ll walk you out.” Noah stood and followed her wordlessly to the front door. Even with music playing in the background, the house seemed uncommonly quiet. Harry lifted his head when Noah opened the front door, then dropped it disinterestedly.

“Well, thank you for dinner,” she said, clutching her bag. “And for part of a movie.”

Noah prepared himself for her hasty departure, but she stopped at the bottom step and turned. “I know what you want, Noah. And part of me wants that, too.”

The air stuck in his throat. “But?”

“Right now I just … I just don’t have room inside myself for any more … feelings.”

The raw honesty in her voice was undeniable. He wasn’t sure how the brash, argumentative woman he’d first met had morphed into this exposed, vulnerable creature he couldn’t take his eyes off. His insides churned. Don’t be afraid of me. Don’t be afraid of what’s happening between us. He didn’t say it. He couldn’t. He wanted to kiss sense into her … to make her really see him, really feel him. But she wanted to run and that annoyed him. God, this woman’s undoing me.

“Will you ever have room?” he asked quietly.

She looked at him. Through him. “I … don’t … I can’t.”

Moments later he watched her drive away and waited on the porch until the taillights disappeared at the end of the driveway. And he knew he was falling for a woman who’d just admitted she didn’t want to feel anything. For anyone. Ever.

Chapter Seven

The familiar sight of Noah’s truck arrived at exactly eight fifty-five Sunday morning. Callie was coming out of the stables when she saw him retrieving his toolbox from the tray. She said hello and he said the same, but he quickly headed for the house and began repairing the screen door.

While she was left wondering if he was angry with her, she was also left facing Lily. And Lily was in a dark mood. She grunted when Callie clipped the long lead rein onto the halter secured beneath the bridle. And then again when Callie knotted the reins in the middle of the gelding’s neck and instructed Lily to do arm raises.

Lily muttered a “this sucks” under her breath and began her lesson.

It became a long fifty minutes, with Callie acutely conscious of Noah’s presence at the house. She wished she knew his moods better. Was he angry with her? He worked without breaking; he didn’t even appear to look in their direction. She hadn’t heard from him since Friday night. She’d thought he might call. But he hadn’t called … and as tempted as she’d been to pick up the telephone herself so she could hear his voice, she hadn’t.

“What’s up with you today?”

Lily’s accusing voice vaulted her back to the present. “Nothing,” she said.

“You’re not paying attention to me,” the teenager complained.

Callie switched her mind into instructor mode. “Of course I am. You’re doing great.” She grabbed a neutral subject. “How did your sleepover go at Maddy’s?”

Lily’s gaze snapped at her suspiciously as she trotted Samson in a circle, skillfully rising from the saddle in between beats. “How did yours go with my Dad?”

Maybe not such a neutral subject after all!

Callie’s face burned. She called Samson to a halt and waited until he slowed before roping him in. Once horse and rider were in front of her she spoke. “It wasn’t like that.”

Lily’s expression remained skeptical. “Yeah, sure.”

“I stayed for dinner,” she explained. “And then I went home.”

Lily didn’t like that, either. Her look became as black as her mood. “So you guys are friends now?”

Callie thought about how to answer. “I … suppose.”

Lily dismounted. “I thought you were my friend?”

Uh-oh. Callie chose her words carefully. “I am, Lily. I have all different kinds of friends.”

“Well, he doesn’t look at you like he wants you to be his friend. He looks at you as if he wants you to be his girlfriend.”

Callie grabbed the reins and tried to squash the sudden heavy thump of her heart. He’s not looking at me like anything at the moment.

“We’re just friends,” she said firmly, unclipping the reigning lead and handing Samson to Lily. “Give him a brush down and ask Joe to get a small feed for him.” She caught Lily’s scowl. “Horsemanship includes ground work and is all part of learning to ride.”

Lily started to move then stopped and swiveled on her boot. “I just don’t want things to change, that’s all. I like coming here. I like learning how to do stuff.”

“Nothing’s going to change,” Callie assured her, sensing that it was what Lily needed to hear. “I promise.”

“So you’re like, not moving back to California or anything?”

California? “No.”

Lily shrugged. “Because people do move. People … leave.”

Like her mother. Callie took about two seconds to figure it out. “Not all people,” she said gently. “Not your dad.”

Lily didn’t look convinced. “Yeah, I guess,” she said. “It’s not like I don’t want him to date or anything … I mean, as long as whoever he dates is not some old witch who hates kids. But you’re my instructor … and if you went out for a while and then stopped going out, I wouldn’t be able to come here anymore. When adults break up that’s what always happens.”

Callie drew in a deep breath. “We’re not dating. We’re friends.”

Lily nodded but clearly wasn’t convinced. Callie remained in the arena until Lily had led the horse into the stables. She wiped her hands down her jeans, tightened the hat on her head and walked toward the house. He wasn’t on the porch. The side gate was open and she headed around the back. Noah was by the fence, pulling off a couple of loose palings, while Tessa bounced around his feet.

“Lesson finished?” He spoke before she even made it twenty feet from him.

“Yes. She did a great job. A few more lessons and she’ll be ready for her own horse.”

He kept pulling at the palings. “I’m nearly done here.”

Callie took a long breath and stepped forward. “I was talking with Lily,” she said, watching as he kept working. “She knows … I mean, she thinks there’s something going on between us,” she blurted.

“I’m sure you set her straight.”

He was angry.

“I said we were just friends.”

He glanced at her but didn’t respond. Callie took another step and called the pup to heel. But Tessa, the traitor, remained by Noah’s side. He popped the palings in place with a few deft swings of the hammer.

“Sure, whatever.” He started walking past her but Callie reached out and touched his shoulder to stop him. He looked at her hand and then into her eyes. “What?”

“Exactly,” she said, digging her fingers into his solid flesh. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t move. “Nothing.”

A big fat whopping lie—and they both knew it. “Are you mad or something?”

“No.” He still hadn’t moved.

“So, we’re … okay?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Callie dropped her hand and felt the loss of touch immediately. He looked tense. More than that … he looked as wound up as a coil.

“Noah,” she breathed his name on a sigh. “If you—”

“Just drop it, Callie,” he said quietly. “I have to get going. See you later.”

She stared after him and watched his tight-shouldered walk with a heavy feeling in her chest. She almost called after him. Almost. Tessa followed before she turned back and sat at Callie’s boots. She touched the dog’s head and the pup whined.

“Yeah … I know what you mean, girl,” she said and waited until his truck started up and headed down the driveway.

She lingered for a moment, staring at the dust cloud from the wheels. Once the dust settled she headed back to the stables and prepared for her next student. Fiona called after lunch and made arrangements to drop over later that afternoon. Her final student left at four o’clock and once Joe took off for the day Callie grabbed her best show bridle and began cleaning the leather. Cleaning her gear had always settled her nerves, and she undid the nose band and cheek strap, set them aside and dipped an old cloth into the pot of saddle soap.

It wasn’t much of a diversion, though. Because Callie had a lump in her throat so big, so constricting, she could barely swallow. For two years she’d had focus. The farm. The horses. Her students.

And now there was Noah. And Lily. And the rest of his children.

Deep down, in that place she kept for her pain and grief and thoughts of her baby son, Callie realized something that shocked her to the core. If I reach out, I know in my heart I can make them my own. She wasn’t sure how it had happened so quickly. Feelings hadn’t been on her agenda for so long. Now, faced with them, Callie could feel herself retreating.

She wondered if she should have told him about Ryan. Would he understand? He’d had his own disappointments, but he didn’t appear to be weighed down with regret and grief. Maybe people could move on? Perhaps hearts did mend.