Yuletide Hearts (19 page)

“You mean…”

“People might think he was after you to maintain his interest in Cobbled Creek.”

“But that's ridiculous.”

Hank's arched brow said it wasn't ridiculous. It was quite possible, actually, the way some small-town tongues wagged. “You're sure, Dad? Because I'm not a big risk-taker anymore.”

Hank leaned closer. “I'm one-hundred-percent sure. I asked Maude to make a blanket for you a bunch of years back. A quilt that reminded me of your mother. All flowery and pretty, like spring.”

Callie nodded, unsure where this was going.

“Then things went bad and I couldn't pay for the blanket. Maude hung on to it, and I went into town the other day to buy it.”

“What's this got to do with—”

“It was gone,” Hank continued as if she hadn't spoken. “Matt bought it for you. Maude said she wrapped it up real pretty. Said she knew he was smitten weeks ago and told him about the quilt, and he told her he was going to make sure Callie had the best Christmas ever.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but they were different tears. Tears of anticipation and hope, not anger. “He bought it for me?”

“Yes, but probably has no clue how to fix this whole mess because of a stupid bank mistake. Do you love him?” Hank's direct question put it all on the line.

“Yes.” Callie met her father's gaze. “Oh, yes.”

“Then show him.”

Callie's mind spun with this new assortment of facts, but she recognized one thing: Her father was right. If this was going to get fixed, Callie needed to be the one to do it because while Matt might be handy with tools, he was a proud marine, first and last. And a marine would never shackle those
he loved with rumor and speculation. It was up to her to show him the way to the family he never had. If the guy wasn't too proud and stubborn to see what God had laid before him, that is. “I will, Dad, but I'll need your help. Can you call him? Get him to come back here tomorrow evening? And meet you at the model home?”

Hank grinned. “Will do. And Callie?”

She turned from the stairs and met his gaze.

“I'm proud of you, honey.”

And she felt it, right to her toes. She met his smile and returned it. “Thank you, Dad.”

M
att saw Hank's caller I.D. and hated to answer the phone, but he did. “Hello.”

“Matt?”

“Yes, Hank. What's up?”

A slight pause tempted Matt to ask about Callie. About Jake. How things were going. It had been one whole day, after all.

Pathetic, Cavanaugh.

“Can you meet me at the model house later today?”

The house Callie loved? “How about we meet in town instead? I'm staying at my brother's place in Wellsville while we get things resituated.”

“I'm tied up all day.” Apology laced Hank's tone. “And I need to go over a few things with you about the model and the house that's sold. I'd do it here, but…”

Matt understood. Callie would be there. So would Jake. And he wasn't in any shape to see them right now, to witness his sacrifice firsthand.

You don't have to give up anything, son.

Grandpa Gus's wisdom poked him from within.

God's offered you a wonderful chance, the chance to love. Grab it. Run with it. Embrace it.

Right. And have the whole town think he was scrambling to hang on to Cobbled Creek through Callie? Honor first, and that meant Callie first, in this instance. Subjecting Jake and
Callie to the gossip mill he'd lived with all his life? Wasn't gonna happen. Not on his watch.

Pride and dismay clenched his gut as he angled the truck down Cobbled Creek Lane that evening. He didn't look toward the Marek house to see their tree winking softly in the side window, or the string of lights he'd helped Callie hang in the rain. Or Shadow Jesus.

The memory of Jake's upturned face C-clamped Matt's heart, his earnest explanations about Bethlehem. Mary and Joseph and a child born to the poor. The little guy paid such close attention to detail, a rare trait, Matt thought; but then, Jake was no ordinary child. He was Callie's son.

The clamp tightened its screw hold on Matt's heart as he approached the model home, the pretty walkway welcoming him.

Should he ring the bell? Walk in?

Swallowing frustration, he pushed open the door and called Hank's name.

“Dad's not here.”

Callie.

His heart jumped, then sank. “He was supposed to meet me.”

She came forward, looking absolutely wonderful, but then he felt that way when she donned triple layers and flannels to work side by side with him. But tonight the one-shoulder top over fitted jeans left no doubt that Callie Marek was in good shape.

And breathtakingly beautiful.

Matt scrubbed a hand to his neck and looked around. Her presence made his determination to stay away seem somewhat dumb. And maybe impossible. But he was doing it for her, he reminded himself as she drew closer. “You left.”

He nodded, holding himself arm's length away when what he longed to do was reach out and touch her. Slide that curl tickling her cheek back behind her ear.

“It seemed best.”

“For whom?”

He waved a hand. “Everyone.”

She encroached a little more. “Really?”

“Yes.” He thought so at the time anyway, but right now, with Callie so near, smelling Christmas-cookie sweet, he wasn't so sure. Which meant he should take a step back. He did.

Callie followed.

“Cal, listen…”

“No, you listen, marine.” She closed the distance between them and gave him a very unromantic thwack on the arm. “What on earth are you doing, Matt Cavanaugh?”

“Trying to find your father and settle our affairs.”

She sighed out loud. “Not with him. With me.” She waved a hand between them. “Us. Because here's how I see things, and let me just add, it's pretty obvious that you and my father need a woman around and you should be thanking God I'm available.”

Available as in…

“First of all—” he didn't think it was possible for her to move closer, and yet she did, wagging her pointer finger in the air “—you love me.”

Honor, integrity and honesty disallowed a lie. “Yes.”

Callie rolled her eyes. “You could try to sound a little happier about it.”

“Callie—”

“Ah.” She put two sweet-smelling fingers to his mouth to shush him, the feel and scent reminding him of those shared kisses. The hopes and dreams he'd thought possible the past weeks. “Still my turn. And you love Jake.”

“Who couldn't?”

She smiled up at him, and he realized she wasn't wearing heels. She was, in fact, just wearing socks, looking way too cozy and at home, but then, this house fit her as if…

“Here's my proposal,” she went on as if sealing a business
deal. “You get all this nonsense about what people will think, about giving up your dream and handing over Cobbled Creek to my dad out of your head.”

“But—”

“In lieu of that we form a partnership of sorts.”

Her slanted smile released the clamp on Matt's heart a bit more. “Are you suggesting a merger?”

Her smile deepened. She poked him in the chest. “Exactly that.” She couldn't get any closer without touching him, so she did, letting her hair riffle against his chin, his neck. Then she squared her shoulders. “Of course there are terms to negotiate.”

“I'm a great negotiator.”

“I don't doubt it for a minute,” she agreed amicably, as if they weren't discussing very serious things like weddings. Babies.

Unless he misunderstood her.

One look into those pretty green eyes nixed that. “You know I was no choirboy, Cal.” Despite the lure, the attraction, the love, he didn't want Callie blindsided ever again. About anything. “My past might trip us up from time to time.”

She met his gaze straight on. “It could, but I'm going to trust God to get us through whatever happens. Once I get it through that thick head of yours that it's okay to love us.” She reached up and feathered a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Stop.” He put up a hand and stepped back. Confusion swam in her eyes until he dropped to one knee and grasped her hand. “If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right.”

Her mouth formed a perfect O, and then she smiled, delighted. “Please do.”

He squeezed her fingers and held her gaze, wishing she could see his heart. His soul. “Callie, you are the most incredible and beautiful woman I've ever known. You have a heart of gold and you're really good with power tools.”

A bubble of laughter mixed with the sheen of tears in her eyes.

“Will you marry me? Share your life and son with me? Grow old with me, building houses?”

“Homes,” she corrected, and drew him up. “Not houses, Matt. Homes. And yes, I'll marry you. Have your babies. And work beside you all my days.”

Matt lost himself in the feel of Callie's arms, her kiss, her presence, feeling like he'd come back to a home he'd never really had.

Lights burst on around them. Twinkle lights. They lined the windows of the first floor, and a tree, a real Christmas tree, lit up the soft yellow great room at the back of the house. Matt hugged Callie and grinned as Hank and the guys tried unsuccessfully to slip quietly out the back.

“Jake.”

The boy broke ranks with the older men and raced back into the house. He barreled into Callie and Matt and Matt tipped the boy's chin up to hold his gaze. “Jake, I'd like your permission to marry your mother. I love her and I love you and I think we'd make a great family together. What do you think?”

Jake's face beamed as bright as the Bethlehem star, a symbol of a new beginning. A new hope. “I say yes.”

“And,” Matt shifted his gaze to the pretty woman in his left arm, a woman who'd known pain and abandonment but was wise enough to let God guide her through it all, step by step, “I think we should live here.”

“Here?” Callie swept the model with the wistful look she'd tried to contain weeks before.

“Right here. If we're going to forge a family business, we need proximity. Affordability. And,” he let his eyes twinkle into hers, “it's a four bedroom which means growth potential.”

Callie blushed.

Jake laughed and fist pumped the air. “And I get to help you and Grandpa build, Matt!”

Matt ruffled a hand through Jake's hair and dropped another kiss to Callie's smiling mouth, wondering how he'd ever considered walking away. “You sure do, son. You sure do.”

“O
h, look.” Callie pointed to the left of the auditorium stage the following December and gave a momlike wave. “There's Jake. Right next to Jordan.”

Chloe Wiseman leaned across her husband. “They're peas in a pod, those two. Have I mentioned often enough how happy we are to live in Cobbled Creek? Near you guys? To have such a nice friend for Jordan, so close?”

Callie laughed and squeezed the other woman's hand. “I feel the same way. And we've got a great bunch of neighbors with Phase One complete.”

A tiny noise erupted from Callie's left. “Dad, you okay over there?”

Hank rearranged the pink-swaddled bundle in his arms and gave a sage nod. “Nothing a bottle and a burp won't cure. But I'm still not loving the pink camo.”

“It's adorable,” Callie protested.

“It's pink,” Hank argued. “Camo should never be pink.”

“Well, she is a girl,” Matt reminded him. He shrugged and met Hank's grin. “Pink goes with the territory. Doesn't it, Morgan?” Matt leaned in and ran a finger along the tiny girl's soft-as-down cheek.

“Dresses, fine.” Hank kept his voice army-gruff, but his eyes twinkled as the newborn accepted the bottle with fisted hands and greedy tugs. “But army gear should be army gear. Never the twain shall meet.”

Matt leaned closer to Callie. “What's he going to think of the pink leopard print stuff Hannah gave us?”

Callie laughed, Hank made a face and Matt watched with pride as Jake
Cavanaugh
stepped up to the microphone to welcome people to the eighteenth annual Christmas Concert for Veterans. And when Jake found them in the crowd and sent a grin their way, Matt felt like Grandpa Gus just clapped him on the back, showing his full approval.

And it felt good.

Dear Reader,

I love stories that laud success over failure, new beginnings and second chances! As a child of two alcoholic parents, I understand Matt Cavanaugh's childhood, but by the grace of God I attended a Catholic school filled with dedicated Christian staff. Their warmth, understanding and diligence taught me to move above and beyond. To grasp faith and hope when darkness surrounded me.

Callie Marek is a gal who can put her hand to any task, like my mother-in-law. I forged Callie's character to reflect Mom's strength and stoicism. Callie's mistake was falling for a man who didn't realize her worth, a woman unafraid to get dirty, dig out a pond or run power tools. Women like this helped build our country and I was determined that Hank's wonderful daughter would find a match worthy of her in God's good time.

And she did, she just had to slap some sense into our proud marine toward the end! A marine who determined the right course for life and stuck to it, doggedly, despite his early mistakes. Thank you for reading
Yuletide Hearts,
my first Christmas story for Love Inspired! Feel free to visit me at menofalleganycounty.com, or stop by Ruthy's Place at ruthysplace.com or check out things at www.ruthloganherne.com. We've got a constant party going on at www.seekerville.blogspot.com where you'll find a strong Christian sisterhood sharing advice and cyber food! You can also snail-mail me c/o Love Inspired Books, 233 Broadway Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279. I love hearing from you!

Ruth Logan Herne