A Match Made in Heaven (6 page)

Callie felt ashamed of her jealousy and flashed a bright smile on Andrea in atonement. The other woman blinked at its brilliance. “I’ll have water with lemon, please,” Callie said.

Andrea took a pad from the pocket of her apron and jotted it down. “I’ll be right back with your drinks and take the rest of your order,” she said stiffly. She flounced away.

Callie watched her go. “I think she likes you,” she said.

Nick raised one eyebrow. “Andrea? I don’t think so. She’s just a gal I’ve seen in here a few times.”

Callie knew it was more than that, but she didn’t argue. “You want to talk about those plans now?”

He groaned. “If we have to.” He raised beseeching eyes to the ceiling. “Why, Lord? We were having such a nice time.”

She grinned. “Don’t expect God to get you out of this. You’re the one being pig-headed. My way makes sense. I want to give Barbara a home that satisfies her need to impress her friends, plus something more. I want her to feel relaxed and comfortable in it. If it’s just a showplace, it will never be home. She won’t be able to kick off her shoes and be herself, and she is a woman who needs that.”

Nick snorted. “I can’t imagine anyone less likely to let her hair down than Barbara Miller.”

“All the more reason why she needs that,” Callie said. “She doesn’t realize it either. But she’s like a spring that’s wound too tightly. She needs her home to be a haven. I have some ideas to make it that. But not in the house you’ve designed. Your design would be a showplace only, never a home.”

“So you expect me to go back to the drawing board and start all over.” Nick leaned back and gave an exasperated sigh. “I can’t do that, Callie. I can’t afford to do that. There are other projects clamoring for my time. I’ve already allotted the Miller house more time than I should have. I’m ready to move on to the next project. Starting over would ruin my schedule for the whole year. We have to come up with another way.”

“There is no other way,” Callie said stubbornly. “Let me show you what I have in mind.”

“I don’t think I really want to know,” Nick said. “Look—can’t you at least look at the design and see what you can do with it? I could make minor changes, but you’re asking the impossible.”

“I know I’m asking a lot, but it’s necessary,” Callie said. “Here—take a look at this list of things I want to do with the interior.” She fished in her purse and pulled out the paper she’d jotted down ideas on.

Nick took the paper with an obvious show of reluctance. “I don’t know why I’m bothering even to look at it, Callie. You don’t seem to understand. I can’t start over on this house. That’s impossible. If you’re determined to have a different house, you’ll have to convince the Millers to hire another architect. This one is about to go AWOL.”

“Just think about it, Nick,” she pleaded.

He opened his briefcase. “Here are the plans I’ve drawn up. Take them home and look at them. We’ll talk again later in the week. But I don’t see where we can compromise right now.”

“Neither do I,” she admitted. “But we have to find a way.”

“You’re tenacious, Callie. I’ll say that for you,” Nick said with a sigh. He picked up his menu. “Can we forget it for now and enjoy the rest of the evening?”

Callie nodded, but a lump formed in her throat. She really liked Nick, but she knew this project would likely end in disaster.

Nick scanned the parking lot for Callie’s car then realized what he was doing. He gave a rueful shake of his head. She’d haunted his dreams last night. He’d never felt this intrigued about a woman in his life.

Yesterday she’d been game to play along with him at the Cowboy Shoot. He’d expected her to turn up her patrician nose at such shenanigans, but instead she’d acted as if she enjoyed it. She was full of surprises, and he intended to see her again. The thought amazed him. He was falling for her and fast.

He’d been up half the night going over her ideas for the interior design, and he had to admit she was good. And he could see the Millers loving what she planned. The trick was to figure out a way to meld her vision with his. Maybe he was just too tired, but so far he couldn’t see how he could merge the two. They were poles apart.

He parked his truck and eased out. Glancing at his watch, he quickened his step. His stomach was in a state of rebellion. Today he was supposed to sing for the first time in his new church home, and nerves had left him unable to eat any breakfast. He realized it was because Callie would be in the audience.

Several people greeted him at the front door. His heart lifted when he spied Callie’s radiant hair. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she chattered to another young woman. On the other side of Callie, he saw her grandmother, Lucille. Seeing them side by side, he realized how much Callie resembled her grandmother. The same determined chin graced both beautiful faces. Their eyes were shaped the same too. Callie would probably age as well as her grandmother. But even more than her beauty, that spirit would age well. Her husband would be a lucky man.

Nick pulled himself up short. He’d only known the woman for three days, and here he was speculating about her in ways that cast himself in the role of husband. He needed to know her a lot better before he should even be thinking that way. Marriage was for a lifetime and not something to be determined by a passing flirtation.

“Nick!”

He turned at the sound of someone calling his name. The Millers waved to him from the church entrance. He smiled and waved back then threaded his way through the throng to join them.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” he told them.

“Where’s Callie?” Barbara put in eagerly. “Has she had a chance to come up with a design yet?”

“Barbara, be patient. It’s the weekend,” Warren admonished.

“She’s here. Let’s find a seat, and I’ll get her.” He led the way through the church and found a pew about halfway back. Lucille was already seated. The young woman she and Callie had been talking to was in the pew as well.

“Nicky, there you are,” Lucille said. “I was just talking to Callie about you. She said she had a wonderful time. I knew the two of you would suit.”

Nick’s ears grew hot. “I enjoyed it too,” he said lamely. “Um, Lucille, I’d like you to meet Warren and Barbara Miller. Callie and I are working on a house for them.”

Lucille shook hands with them and insisted they all sit with her. “Callie will be right back,” she told them. “She went to watch for these folks at the door. She hoped you’d come,” she told Barbara in a confiding whisper that carried three pews away.

Nick helped them get seated then made his way back to the door to find Callie. She stood alone watching the entry. He was touched by the hope on her face as each new arrival came through the door.

“They’re already here,” he whispered into her ear.

She jumped then turned to face him. “You startled me. I didn’t see you come in.”

“Oh, were you watching for me? I thought you were looking for the Millers.”

Delicate color blossomed on her cheeks, and she glanced away. She
had
been looking for him, Nick realized with a stab of exultation. Maybe he was having the same effect on her as she was having on him.

Her red hair was up in its customary place at the back of her head in that sedate roll. Nick itched to take it loose from its prison, and he had to suppress a grin at the thought. She’d likely wallop him with that suitcase she called a purse. Her emerald green suit fitted her as though it had been custom made for her, and he supposed it might have been.

One of these days he was going to get her to shed that fake persona for good. Yesterday she’d seemed so much more free and happy in her worn jeans with her hair stuffed into that old cowboy hat. He had yet to see her hair down, and it was taking on the proportions of a quest to see it on her shoulders. He’d have to think of what he could try next.

Her husky voice interrupted his thoughts. “Where are they?”

“With your grandmother and another young woman.”

“That would be Mel. She’ll be Gram’s next project—you wait and see. Gram won’t be content until she has us all hitched.” Her voice was gloomy. “Her success with my cousin Chelsea went to her head.”

“I’m not complaining,” Nick said. “At least I have a friend in Heaven now.” He clasped her hand and was gratified when her fingers curled around his.

“Unless we’re enemies by the time this is all over.”

“Whoa, you sure woke up on the wrong side of the bed! What’s wrong this morning?”

Callie shrugged. “I don’t see how we’re going to make this project work.”

“You sound downright despondent. We’ll figure it out.” Seeing her resignation, he felt a new surge of optimism. Maybe she would bend more than he had thought she would. They might find a way to fix this yet.

“You want to take the Millers out for lunch with me?”

“I wish I could, but I already promised Gram I’d come for lunch,” she said.

The strength of his disappointment surprised him. He’d been counting on spending time with her today. “When do you want to get together and discuss the plans again?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t have anything new to say. I need to study your plans some more.”

“How about next weekend? We’ll both have a week to come up with some compromises.”

“All right. When?”

“Friday night. And Saturday you get to pick what we do for the day.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you asking me out on a regular date that has nothing to do with the Miller project?”

“Yep, any objections?” He held his breath.

The corners of her mouth turned up, and that delightful dimple appeared. “You’re game for
anything?
”

“Uh-oh, what have I opened myself up to?”

“Nope, you’ve done it now. You said I could choose what we do. I’ll have to come up with some fiendishly unpleasant plan.” The dimple in her cheek flashed again, and her dark eyes sparkled with good humor.

“Come along and repent of those intentions.” He tugged at her hand and drew her down to the pew where the Millers waited. “And I thought all this time you were a good Christian girl I could take home to Mother.”

“Oh, I am,” she said primly. “But even good Christian girls have depths you never dreamed of.”

“I’m beginning to find that out,” he said with a grin.

Barbara Miller greeted Callie with a cry of delight. Nick sat on the end of the pew so he could get out to sing. Callie chatted softly to Barbara until the pianist began to play the opening hymn.

“Pray for the Millers,” Callie murmured to Nick. “They really need the Lord.”

“I’ve already started,” he whispered back. He rubbed his slick hands against his pants leg. His special was the first one and would be right after the opening hymn. He hoped the words would touch hearts more than his poor voice could. As nervous as he was, he would be lucky if he could croak it out.

The music minister cleared his throat. “Nick Darling is new to our area, but he has a great heart for God. He’s going to sing for us this morning. I heard him practicing, and you are in for a real treat.”

Callie’s eyes widened as Nick rose. Approaching the platform, he prayed he wouldn’t forget the words and that the Millers especially might be touched by them.

The accompaniment music started, and his butterflies were swept away with his passion for the song. He’d chosen a Twila Paris number called “Could You Believe?” It talked about living a Christian life instead of mouthing the words. Nick was convicted the first time he’d heard it. That’s what he wanted in his life—for others to see Christ, not Nick Darling. He sang with all the desire in his heart to walk true to God.

Callie had tears in her eyes as he made his way back to the pew. He slid in beside her, and she squeezed his hand.

“It appears there are hidden depths to you as well,” she said softly.

§

A real date. Through church Callie mulled it over in her mind. Did she dare expose herself to the danger of heartache? Nick didn’t seem the playboy type, but she’d been fooled before. And even if he wasn’t the kind to break her heart deliberately, if he quit the Miller project in a huff, his pride would cause him to turn away from her. This project was one he’d worked for long and hard. And she had been thrust into the middle of it. She could back off and tell the Millers to choose another interior designer, but it would mean giving up the project that might really launch her into the stratosphere of the New York design world. She wasn’t sure she was that unselfish.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He was full of surprises. First the cowboy stuff and now the singing. His rich baritone had filled the church and made her think of her own walk. She had invited the Millers to church with a sincere desire to win them. Was she now thinking of them only as a means to her own ends? The truth cut like a spine from a teddy bear cholla. She resolved to put her own ambition and striving behind her. God had put these folks in her path for His purposes, not her own.

After church her grandmother stood and smiled in a way Callie had grown to distrust. Full of innocence, she smiled up at Nick. “Nicky dear, would you like to come to lunch? I’ve invited the Millers as well, but they say they are meeting with their builder. You don’t have any other plans, do you?”

Nick smiled with what seemed like genuine pleasure. “I’d love to come, Lucille. I had thought to take Warren and Barbara to lunch, but since they already have previous plans, I’m free.”

“Maybe we could join you next Sunday,” Barbara put in.

Was that longing on her face? Callie’s heart clenched with sympathy. Barbara seemed to be a lonely woman. She needed Jesus.

Impulsively Callie leaned over and took her hand. “Would you like to have lunch one day this week, Barbara? I know several great restaurants downtown. We could eat; then you could see my shop.”

Too late she realized how it must look to Nick. His brows drew together, and she knew he assumed she was trying to sway Barbara to her side of any argument that was looming over the design for the house. She bit her lip and looked away.

“What day?” Barbara leaned forward eagerly.