Heaven Sent (4 page)

“
You’re ever so welcome,
dearie. That dear child has been lost since her mother died. As has
her poor papa,” she added conscientiously. Callie suppressed a
sniff. “We all try to give her as much attention as we can, but we
have our other jobs to do.”

“
I see. I’m glad to be
here.”

Monster took that opportunity to let
out a howl. His howls reminded Callie of stories she’d read about
banshees on Irish moors. Were there moors in Ireland? Well, never
mind. The shocked expression on Mrs. Granger’s face needed
attending to before the banshees did.

“
Er, I took the liberty of
bringing my cat, Mrs. Granger. I hope that won’t cause a problem.
He’s a lovely cat, really. He’s a little nervous at the moment,
because he’s come all this way in a basket in a bumpy
wagon.”

Mrs. Granger eyed the basket
doubtfully. “Well . . .”

“
Becky told me she wanted a
cat,” Callie told her, feeling desperate.

It was the right thing to have said.
Mrs. Granger’s doubt faded into a sad frown. “Yes. I know the
darling girl wants a pet. I hope Mr. Lockhart won’t he upset about
it.”

So did Callie. “I’ll keep him in my
room at first. Until he gets used to his new home. And I’ll fix him
a sandbox.”

With a slow nod, Mrs. Granger said,
“Yes. That’s the best thing to do.”

Although she didn’t say so, Callie
imagined Mrs. Granger would have liked to add that perhaps it would
be best to keep the cat in her room forever. But Callie was an
optimist by nature, and she gave the housekeeper a big smile.
“Wonderful! I’m very excited about this new job, Mrs. Granger. I’m
very fond of Becky already, and I’m hoping I can be of some help to
her.”

Mrs. Granger gave her shoulder a pat.
“I’m sure you can, dearie. Here, come along inside.” She leaned out
the door and smiled at George, who had grown up and gone to school
with her own boy. “Come on in with her bags, George. We have a
pretty room all fixed up for your sister.”

“
Right-oh.” The
ever-agreeable George picked up Callie’s two small pieces of
luggage—a bandbox and a carpetbag—and toted them into the kitchen.
He stopped and sniffed the air. “Smells good in here.”

“
We’re having one of Becky’s
favorites tonight.” Mrs. Granger gave Callie a confiding look. “The
sweet child. She asked if we could have chicken and dumplings for
special, because you were coming to live with us.”

Callie told herself not to get
emotional over every little thing. But it was considerate of the
little girl to want to feed Callie a special meal on her first
night in her home, even if Callie didn’t particularly care for
chicken and dumplings.

“
That’s very nice of
her.”

The housekeeper heaved a huge sigh.
“She’s a darling. She’s just like her late mother.”

“
Yes. I’ve heard that. She
looks like her, too.”

“
Oh, my, yes. Mr. Lockhart,
he’s so dark and all. But Becky has her mother’s blond hair and
blue eyes. Why, they look like they were molded by the same
hand.”

How poetic. Callie murmured, “Yes,
indeed,” as she followed the housekeeper up the back stairs. She
and George exchanged a glance, and George winked at her. She felt
good about this job. Confident. Secure.

Well, perhaps not secure. But she was
absolutely confident that she could be of some assistance to Becky,
and that was the important thing.

At the top of the stairs, Mrs. Granger
spoke again. “Most of the servants sleep on the third floor, but
Becky asked especially that you be allowed to have the room next to
hers.”

“
That was kind of
her.”

The older woman heaved a dolorous
sigh. “She’s been awfully lonely these past few months.” Shaking
her head, Mrs. Granger indicated the closed door of a bedroom to
her right. “This is her room here.” With another confidential
expression, she said quietly, “And you ought to see it, too. It’s a
dollhouse of a room, CaIlie. All pink and white and frilly. It’s
just beautiful. Her mother and father went to great pains to pick
out everything just the way they wanted it.”

This news surprised Callie. “Her
father helped?”

“
Oh, my, yes. Why, the poor
man used to dote on his wife and Becky. He indulged their every
whim. He even took them to San .Francisco to pick the fabrics for
little Becky’s tester and counterpane—all pink-and-white gingham
checks, don’t you know, with white cotton lace edging it all. Mrs.
Lockhart’s death crushed him “

It must have. “I had no
idea.”

The housekeeper sighed soulfully.
“There ought to be three or four little children playing in this
grand house. Then Becky wouldn’t be so lost and alone and neither
would her papa. But it pleased the good Lord to call Mrs. Lockhart
to a new home.” She shook her head.

Perhaps, Callie thought, she ought to
go a little easier on Aubrey Lockhart. At least until she got to
know more about the family as a whole.

On the other hand, Callie didn’t think
she could ever really forgive him for abandoning his daughter. She
didn’t doubt for a minute that his wife’s death had hurt him and
broken his spirit. But he owed it to his wife’s memory and his
still-living daughter to be of solace to the child, blast
it.

Her firm and negative opinions about
Mr. Aubrey Lockhart flew smack out of her head as soon as Mrs.
Granger opened the door to the room Becky had picked for
Callie.

“
Good heavens!”

Mrs. Granger beamed. “Lovely, isn’t
it?”

Callie swallowed and slowly entered
the room. “It certainly is.” She set Monster’s wicker basket down
next to the fireplace. The animal set up a yowl that faded into a
hiss of fury, but Callie paid him no mind.

“
Jumping cats, Callie, this
is a sight better than anything you’ve ever lived in before.”
George stomped into the room and dumped her luggage on the
bed.

Darting over and retrieving the two
small bags, Callie whispered, “George! Don’t put them
there!”

He laughed indulgently. “Callie-coe,
sweetheart, your two little bags aren’t going to ruin that
counterpane, even if it is a fine one.”

She set the bags on the magnificent
blue-and-white Chinese rug laid before the fireplace, precipitating
a low grown from Monster, next to the bags. “I suppose not, but . .
. well, it seems like sacrilege to me.” She laughed at herself and
her silliness.

So did George. Mrs. Granger looked
sort of shocked. Callie hastened to reassure her that the two
Prophets weren’t complete heathens. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Granger. It’s
only that I’ve never even seen a room as beautifully furnished as
this one. I never expected to be sleeping in one, and that’s a
fact.”

Her words seemed to soothe Mrs.
Granger’s feelings. She folded her hands under her apron and beamed
as her gaze swept the room. “I know. Isn’t it
something?”

“
It is, indeed.”

Callie’s gaze went from the
spectacular Chinese rug before the fireplace to the equally lovely
and much larger one that covered most of the rest of the polished
cedar floor. Evidently Mr. Lockhart’s Chinese imports weren’t all
sold to create income, but many of them had been diverted to his
own home. Callie was glad of it. She wasn’t going to mind in the
least being able to live in the middle of such luxury and only
hoped she wouldn’t get too used to it. She sure liked it so
far.

The furniture was all made of a
gleaming dark wood, covered with ornate carvings. The pearl inlays
in the dressing table and mirror accented the beautiful designs
worked into the wood.

“
Lord love us, Callie,
you’ll never want to go home again,” George said.

Detecting a slight edge to his
words—or perhaps the edge was in his voice—Callie dragged her
attention away from the blue-and-white goddess residing on the
mantelpiece and focused on him. He looked worried. “What’s the
matter, George?”

He shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. I
just—” He stopped speaking suddenly.

Bemused, Callie said, “You what? Come
on, George, spit it out.”

He grinned. “Spit? In this place?” His
smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “I just hope you
don’t get too accustomed to this kind of living, Callie. It might
be hard to come back to the real world if you get too used to this
one.”

“
George! Do you really think
I’m so petty as to be swayed into neglecting my family by wealth
and overt displays of opulence? I know what matters in this life,
George Prophet. Believe me.” Because it was true, and because
George had hurt her feelings, she added, “You, of all people, ought
to know that my family is more important to me than anything else
on earth.”

With two giant steps, Callie’s brother
had her in his arms and was giving her a bear hug. “I’m sorry,
Callie-coe. I know you won’t let your head get swelled by this
stuff. It’s just that we Prophets have to stick
together.”

“
You bet,” Callie
said—somewhat thickly since there was a lump in her throat and her
mouth was buried in George’s flannel shirtfront.

A low sniffle from Mrs. Granger
separated the Prophet siblings.

Callie was shocked to see the
housekeeper dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Mrs. Granger!
Are you all right?”

The older woman nodded. “Oh, yes,
Callie. It’s only that you two are so close, and I think it’s
wonderful. Sometimes I wish Becky could belong to your
family.”

“
My goodness.” Callie was
surprised that her own family’s closeness should inspire such
appreciation from a person who wasn’t a member of the Prophet clan,
although she’d often wished much the same thing for the lonely
little Lockhart girl. She stepped away from her brother, took a
deep, refreshing breath, and said, “So, now . . . Well, thank you,
George. I’ll let you know how things go. Give my love to Marie and
the children.”

He saluted smartly. “Will do. Take
care of yourself, Callie.”

“
I will.” The mention of
Marie, George’s darling, plump wife, and of their adorable children
brought something to mind. “Say, George, after I get settled in and
know what’s what, perhaps Becky and I can come to visit the
children.”

George shrugged. “Sure. Don’t see why
not.” He gave her another breathtaking hug. “Let us know if you
need anything.”

As if she’d need anything now that she
was living here. Another glance around the room she’d be occupying
nearly left Callie speechless. Nothing could render a Prophet
speechless for long, however, and she smiled at her brother and
said, “Will do. Thanks for bringing me, George.”

“
Right-oh. See you later,
Callie. He tipped his hat at the housekeeper. “Mrs. Granger. Any
messages you want me to deliver in town? I’m off to the store
now.”

“
Thank you, George. I don’t
think so.”

Callie could tell his offer
had pleased the older woman, though. God bless
George
. God bless all of my
family
. Even the youngest members of the
Prophet clan knew how to put people at their ease.

They also had a gift for making people
like them—mainly because they took a genuine interest in others.
Callie considered this Prophet characteristic a true blessing. She
hoped she’d be able to use it to good effect with Becky
Lockhart.

Speaking of Becky, Callie had no
sooner bidden her brother good-bye and politely declined Mrs.
Granger’s offer of assistance in unpacking, when a tiny knock came
at her bedroom door.

When she opened the door,
her heart lit up when she beheld Becky, her hands clasped tightly,
looking up at her with anxious eyes.
Poor
little mite
, as Mrs. Granger might
say.

Throwing her arms wide, Callie cried,
“Becky! How lovely to see you! Would you like to come in and help
me unpack?”

Instantly the hands unclasped and the
aspect of anxiety vanished from the beautiful blue eyes. A huge
smile lit Becky’s features, and she all but leapt into Callie’s
arms.

“
Oh, yes!
Please!”

So Callie carried Becky into her room
and plunked her down on the fireplace rug. “This is a beautiful
room, Becky. It’s the prettiest room I’ve ever seen.”

“
Do you like it?”

“
I love it.”

The eagerness on the pert, pretty face
made Callie’s heart ache. The tyke was astoundingly anxious to
please. Callie chalked it up to her trying so hard to please her
father for so long.

“
Say, Becky, I have
something here that might interest you,” Callie said as she walked
over to the fireplace where odd grumbling noises could be heard
issuing from the wicker basket. “But you’d probably better sit in
that chair over there.” She pointed to an ornately carved,
straight-backed chair with a gorgeous embroidered silk cushion,
shoved into the kneehole of a matching writing desk. She adopted a
mysterious mien and waggled her eyebrows. “You never know what
might pop out of this basket.”