Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: Bayou Sweetheart\The Firefighter's New Family\Season of Redemption (11 page)

Chapter Eleven

C
allie lifted away to stare at the man who'd just kissed her. She couldn't speak, couldn't think. Tomas had awakened something inside her that she'd tried to hide.

Her heart.

She'd lost her heart to breast cancer and to the agony of going through a divorce. Once the dust had settled, and she'd survived, she'd given herself a solemn, silent vow to never go through that much trauma again. Ever.

And now she feared she'd lose herself all over again. But her heart couldn't take being broken a second time. So she stood back, her mind in turmoil. Had she wanted this to happen? Hadn't she known that going on an actual date with this man might lead to trouble? To this?

She stared at Tomas now, all the warning signs flashing through her mind like a storm alert. But
that
kiss, now that qualified for a sea full of good sailing.

Tomas must have felt some of the same sensations. He looked hopeful then confused. “Callie?”

“I don't know about this,” she sputtered. “I mean, I know that you and I...have kind of been dancing around this...for weeks now, but I'm not so sure I'm ready.” She stared up at him again, a choked gulp of an inhale rasping in her throat. “I'm not ready, Tomas.”

He put his hands in the pockets of his pants and rocked back on his heels. “I didn't think I was ready, either, but...Callie...I'm not going to make demands on you. And I'm not going anywhere.”

She put her hands together, shook her head. “But you're you and I'm...just me.”

He grabbed her, his hands gentle on her upper arms. “Just you? You are amazing, beautiful. I'm not playing you, Callie. You don't understand what this means to me.”

“I think I do,” she replied, shaking her head. “But that scares me. I don't want to feel this way, to depend on you. I can't depend on you.”

“Because you think I'll hurt you?”

She nodded and tugged herself out of his embrace. “Yes. And because I'll take things to heart and then, bam, you'll be gone again or you'll figure out I'm not worth your time.”

“Don't say that,” he retorted, the words sharp-edged. “Don't think you've got me all figured out. Do you know what it took for me to invite you here, for me to finally kiss you?”

She looked down then turned back toward the mural. “If you're feeling the way I do right now, it took courage and guts and a leap of faith.”

“Yes. Yes.” He inhaled a breath, waited. “Callie?”

Callie turned back to face him. “Tomas, I didn't mean to hurt you or reject you. It's me. I'm scared, so scared.” She lowered her head, her eyes downcast. “When I got married, I thought it was for keeps. But...my marriage wasn't strong enough to sustain cancer. My husband couldn't love me enough to get past my operation and my chemo and all the things that go with that.” She looked up and into Tomas's eyes. “It wasn't enough for him. I wasn't enough.”

He came to her then, taking her back into his arms. “Don't be scared. I won't hurt you. I just want to soak you up like that sunshine you love. Just let me try, Callie. You are enough for me. Please?”

Callie could see the sincerity in his eyes. She knew the cost of that kiss. He was a quiet, tormented man but he'd stepped out of that shell tonight. For her? Yes, for her. Should she push him away or should she enjoy their time together, no matter the outcome?

What should I do, Lord?

Her silent prayer whispered against the night.

What should she do?

Did she deserve to be with this man?

“I don't know.”

“Neither do I,” Tomas admitted. He took her hand. “Let's walk around the house. Just put that kiss out of your mind and I'll give you the nickel tour. Then I'll take you home. You can think about this—about us—and I won't pressure you. I won't.”

He didn't sound so sure.

And honestly, if he tried to kiss her again, Callie wasn't so sure she'd be able to stop him. His kiss had been so gentle, so tender, so rich with promise and warmth and peace, that she wanted to feel his lips on hers over and over.

Patience.

She heard the one word and knew she had to be careful here.

“Okay,” she finally said. “We'll just see where things go. But no pressure, no promises, no guarantees.”

He gave her a steady stare. “I'll take it.”

She smiled, willing her heart to slow down. “Now, let's finish this tour before I change my mind and run out the door.”

“I kidnapped you, remember. And it's a long walk back to town.”

“Oh, right.” She smiled at that. “I guess I have to trust that you'll get me home safely.”

“I will,” he said. “That's one promise I can keep.”

Callie took his hand and forced herself to a scattered calm. “Okay. Where is this sunroom Brenna went on and on about?”

* * *

Tomas willed his heart to move from a chaotic beating to a slow simmer. He'd always heard of people feeling an electric awareness when they met someone and fell in love. And after that kiss, he'd certainly felt some sort of charge shooting through his veins, giving him a new life.

Was he overreacting? Being silly? Being foolish?

Maybe all of that and more.

He'd told himself to stay away, to let Callie alone. And yet, each time he saw her he somehow managed to be near her. Earlier today after she'd left, something inside him had gone dark. He missed her being in the garden.

He wanted her here with him more and more, even when against his better judgment. He liked the way he felt right now. He liked holding Callie's hand and touching on her calluses. He wanted this to work, somehow.

But could it work? Could he be the man this woman deserved and still hold on to his need to get even?

I'm in trouble,
he thought as he guided her through the rambling house. But he laughed and explained things and showed off rare artifacts and antiques and bragged on her sister Brenna's good taste in art. They moved from downstairs to the second floor, so he showed her the many bedrooms and bathrooms and the dainty sunroom that overlooked the back gardens.

When they reached the sunroom, he stopped. “It's not quite finished, but you can have a look if you'd like. The upstairs balcony is just off this room and I have a smaller balcony off my room.”

Callie's eyes widened as she whirled around in the oval sunroom. “I've always wanted to stand on that curved balcony and pretend I'm a princess.”

He opened the double French doors into the room with a flourish. “Allow me, Princess Callie.”

Her giggle reminded him of tiny bells tinkling on the wind.

“What a beautiful room,” she said, her voice full of surprise. She glanced around, her back to the many windows now, and took in the muted walls and the chunky art. Then she stared up at the long empty wall opposite the windows. “You need a portrait right there over that rattan sofa. Something to bring the room together.”

He had to smile at that. “Brenna told me the same thing. And I do have a portrait in mind, but the owner isn't ready to sell it yet.”

“Oh, I see,” she said with a grin. “You figure you'll wear somebody down until they name their price?”

“That's the plan,” he retorted, thinking of the painting of her that Brenna had shown him. “C'mon. I'll show you the balcony.”

He led her to the next set of French doors and opened them wide. The night shone down on them in shades of moonlight and mauve. The crescent moon seemed to hang suspended over the trees, waiting for them to reach out and touch it. The scent of jasmine and wisteria sauntered through the air. The big oaks swayed just enough to show off the veiled Spanish moss. And out beyond the grounds, the bayou gurgled toward the bay in a soft, never-ending rhythm.

He watched as Callie rushed to the stone balustrades and lifted her head to the sky. She breathed deeply and let out a contented sigh. “It's even more beautiful than I imagined.”

Tomas was already half in love with her, but now, right now, standing here with her in the moonlight, he knew without a doubt that he wanted to be completely in love with her. And he wanted her to feel the same about him. But would she once she knew the truth?

Unable to move, he leaned back against a wrought-iron table and enjoyed seeing his favorite view through the eyes of his favorite person. He envisioned her standing just like this for at least the next fifty years.

He imagined going to her, giving her a sprig of flowers and a fresh cup of coffee, then turning her in his arms and telling her how much he loved her.

“Why so standoffish? Tomas?”

Tomas blinked and realized she'd turned toward him, her hand out. “Come over here by me.”

An invitation? Or just Callie being Callie?

He walked toward her, his hand reaching for hers. Without a word they stood together, shoulder to shoulder, and listened to the night. Bullfrogs croaking, an owl hooting far off in the bayou, night critters playing through the shrubbery, and the wind whispering a sweet melody through the trees. The night world was alive and thriving and for this brief time, so was Tomas.

Callie turned to him, her eyes misty. “Thank you. Thank you for a perfect night.”

Tomas pulled her close and touched his hand to her cheek. “Why are you crying?”

“I don't know. It's just...so beautiful.”

He had to kiss her again. He had to capture her essence and hold it close to his heart until he could convince her to come here and be his forever. So he leaned down and drew her near and touched his lips to hers, holding back until she met him and kissed him with a sweet acceptance.

He drew back and brushed at her tears. “We'll take it slow.”

“Uh-huh.” She feathered his jawline with petal-soft kisses. “We'll get to know each other even better.”

“Yes. We have all the time in the world.”

“You won't hurt me, will you, Tomas?”

“Never. I'd never do anything to hurt you.”

“You don't have to promise me anything. Just...show me.”

He held her tight to show her this was real.

When she pulled away this time, she had a new confidence. She drew close and turned to stand with her back against his chest, allowing him to tug her close and hold her with his arms around her stomach.

“I'll never forget this night,” she said, her whisper full of hope and awe. “All those times I dreamed of walking through Fleur House, but I never imagined someone like you being here with me. That makes it so much more special.”

“So you like my house?”

She shifted and turned back toward him. “It's not about the house, Tomas. It's about the home. All those times I thought about living in this house, that was just a fantasy. But having a life, a real life with someone who understands me and gets me, well, that's not a fantasy. That's a dream come true.”

Tomas pulled her around and hugged her tight. “I feel the same. I've lived in lots of places, but this feels like home.”

Callie laid her head on his shoulder and they stood there for a long time, absorbing the night, adjusting to each other, doing a kind of slow dance to the wind's music.

“I don't want to go,” she said, “but I have a busy day tomorrow.”

He glanced down at her, already missing her. “Of course. I had a really nice time.”

“Me, too.” She took his hand as they strolled back toward the open doors. “Tell Margie and Eunice I appreciate them. Better yet, I'll send them some flowers tomorrow, to show them.”

“I'll let them know. And I'll have to thank Alma and Winnie and Pretty Mollie.”

“Just thank the whole town since it seems they were all in on this.”

“Good idea.”

He walked with her, turning off lights and holding her hand tight, his thoughts swirling like that gentle wind. He did have a lot to be thankful for. But he also had a lot for which to ask forgiveness.

Maybe it was time he started paying more attention to all the signals God was sending him.

Maybe it was time for him to begin searching for some sort of salvation instead of plotting for revenge and retribution.

Chapter Twelve

“Y
our smile is dreamy.”

Callie looked over at her sister. Alma watched the road, but she was grinning. “That must mean you had a nice time with Tomas,” Alma continued.

“I did.” Callie went back to watching the countryside fly by. They were on I-10 headed to her doctor's office in New Orleans. “The food was great, of course. We ate in the gazebo. The night was perfect, cool, with a gentle breeze, candles all around. The mosquitoes didn't bother us.”

“I ordered them to stay away,” Alma replied. “But forget the bugs. Tell me the good stuff.”

“I think I'm in trouble,” Callie confessed.

Misunderstanding, Alma shook her head. “It's just a yearly follow-up checkup, honey. You're fine. Nothing to worry about. Dr. Griffin always calls you back in for a chat after your regular checkups, just to reassure you.”

“I'm not worried about my checkup,” Callie replied. “I'm worried about Tomas. He kissed me.”

Alma hit a hand to the steering wheel on her little car. “That's what I'm talking about.”

“No, that's not what you're talking about. You can't tell anyone. We decided to take things slow. To be sure.”

“How sure do you need to be?” Alma asked, her eyes bright with hope. “I mean, you're happy this morning.”

“Remember when Julien decided he wanted you back? You took your own sweet time letting him get you.”

“Oh, yeah. Right. I guess I can understand your being hesitant after what you went through with Dewayne. But Tomas is a very decisive man. And it sounds as if he's decided on you.”

“We have to see if we can make things work.” Callie held back from sharing the intimate details of Tomas's life. She wouldn't betray his trust, even with her sisters. “I just want to be careful this time.”

“Nothing wrong with taking time to let a relationship grow,” Alma said on a grudgingly positive note. “I hope it all works out for you, Callie.”

“Thanks.” Callie stared out the window, lost in her own thoughts, until Alma pulled the car into the parking lot at the oncology center. She should be nervous about this checkup, but her mind was full to the brim with thinking about Tomas Delacorte. Could it be possible that he was the real deal?

She went in to see her doctor, her hopes high for a new future. A different kind of future.

When they exited the building two hours later, she was still thinking about Tomas Delacorte. Only now, she was thinking that last night would have to hold her steady for a while.

Because it would be her first and last date with Tomas.

Her cancer was back.

* * *

Tomas dialed Callie's number again. He'd tried to call her all day but she wasn't answering. So he left another message.

“Uh, it's me again. I really enjoyed last night. Are you avoiding me?”

Had he scared her away?

So much for a romantic attempt to show Callie he cared about her. Maybe she didn't get into fancy meals and candlelight. But they'd had a good time. He'd kissed her good-night and smiled at her when she'd turned at the door to wave to him. They'd talked about plans for the weekend, maybe a nice drive or a movie.

What had happened between then and now?

Maybe nothing. Maybe she'd just had a busy day, the start of a busy week. Maybe she was out on another landscaping job and had left her phone in the truck.

Maybe. Or maybe he'd pushed things too far last night. Maybe now that she'd had time to think, she'd decided they needed to cool things between them. Maybe she wasn't ready, as she'd said last night. Callie loved her independence, loved being her own boss. And he did, too. But they'd connected last night.

Had he read all the signs wrong?

When his cell buzzed, he quickly checked the caller ID.

Nick.

“Hello,” Tomas said, trying to sound chipper. “Why are you calling me from your honeymoon?”

Nick laughed. “Just to tell you that my wife is so thankful for you and this generous gift. We're having a blast. I'm not sure I'll be able to get her to come home.”

“We can extend your stay.”

“No need. We miss everyone too much. Speaking of that, Brenna can't reach Callie or Alma. Have you talked to Callie today?”

Tomas felt the jolt of unease shooting down his spine. “No, but she is finished with her work here. She's probably moving on to the next project.” He wasn't going to share the details of last night with Nick. That was between Callie and him.

“Hmm. Alma should at least answer her cell,” Nick replied. “I'll try to call Ramon and see what's up. I don't want Brenna to worry too much, but she calls her sisters on a regular basis, no matter what side of the planet she's on. And they always get back to her.”

“I understand,” Tomas replied, his gut burning. “If I hear anything, I'll let you know.”

A deep dread settled over Tomas after he ended the call. He stood in the kitchen and stared out at the beautiful landscaping that had Callie's stamp all over it. The once-dull yard now held splashes of color highlighted by a rich green carpet of fresh sod. Somewhere off in the house, he heard Margie and Eunice laughing and talking. He wished he could be so carefree, but a dark cloud hung over him like the Spanish moss gripping the old oaks.

He put the phone in his pocket, grabbed his keys and headed to his car. He was going into town to find Callie.

* * *

Callie sat with Alma in Alma's cottage behind the café.

“What are you going to do?” Alma asked, her hand holding Callie's. “Papa will suspect something if we don't call him. He's left several messages. Brenna and Nick have called.” She scrolled through Callie's phone. “And so has Tomas.”

Callie let out a long sigh. “I'll go and tell Papa later tonight,” she said. “I have to keep it together for his sake.”

“That's right,” Alma agreed. “Dr. Griffin did say it was a small lump and that we caught it early. He said a lumpectomy could take care of it. It won't be like last time, honey. We can beat this, Callie. We beat it once. We can do it again.”

Callie appreciated her sister's optimism, but they both knew that when their mother's breast cancer had come back the second time, Lola hadn't survived. Callie closed her eyes. The doctor was optimistic, but he couldn't predict anything until they did more tests. And possibly more surgery, a possible total mastectomy and reconstruction, more fear and doubt and sickness and...

Dear Lord, what do I do now?

She opened her eyes. “We'll tell Papa tonight. You and Julien can come with me. Then I'll call Brenna, but we can't tell her the truth until she's home. I purposely didn't remind her before the wedding about this checkup, and I won't spoil her honeymoon.” She nodded. “I'll wait a while before I talk to my staff. I'd appreciate it if you don't tell anybody, either. I'll talk to Reverend Guidry. He'll pray for me.”

“And Tomas?” Alma asked. “What about Tomas, Callie?”

Callie shook her head. “No. He can't know about this. I don't want him to know about this.”

“But—”

She took her sister's hand in hers. “Listen, Alma. The man's first wife died. Died. She was a drug addict—prescription drugs. He couldn't save her. I won't have him trying to save me, either.”

“But you're not going to die,” Alma said, tears misting her eyes. “I won't let you die.”

“You can't make that call, honey,” Callie replied. “We both know that.”

“I won't let it happen,” Alma said. “You'll be okay. I know you will.”

“Just don't tell Tomas. I mean it,” Callie repeated. “I can't take his pity or his anger. Just let me remember last night without all this...ugliness.”

* * *

Now he knew something was wrong.

He'd called Callie several times and she had yet to answer any of those calls. He'd gone by the nursery, but her staff had told him she was out on business. They didn't know where she was or when she'd be back. He'd tried the café, but Winnie didn't know where Callie was and Alma had taken the day off. What was going on?

A new thought entered his mind. Had something happened to Alma and the baby? Had she lost the baby? Margie had told him the good news just this week.

Her café employees didn't seem to be concerned, so he dropped that line of thought. Alma had to be with Callie, wherever they were.

Had they gone on a road trip? Skipped town like Thelma and Louise? Or was he just being paranoid?

Shock simmered like a slow boil underneath the myriad feelings moving through him. He couldn't focus on work, had even barked at sweet Eunice when she'd offered him a tea cake. Now dusk was settling like webbed lace over the gardens and bayou.

Tomas threw down the file he was trying to read and stomped out of the house and down to the gazebo. He stood just inside the open structure and remembered sitting here with her last night. They'd talked for hours, laughed at each other's lame jokes, told each other intimate, quirky things that really didn't matter. But being here with her had mattered. Being here with the woman he'd spotted dancing in the rain had awakened all the feelings he'd tried to hide. What had he done to her that she'd turn away so quickly?

Okay, so maybe he was a bit awkward and brooding. He'd worked on improving that for most of his life. Maybe he could be cold and cruel at times. But with Callie, he'd let down his guard, stepped out in faith. He'd been so relaxed and comfortable he hadn't even worried about all of his bad attributes.

But she'd vanished. Hiding from him?

His wife had done the same. When she could no longer deal with his moods and his workaholic mindset, she'd turned from him and found solace in self-medicating. Tomas hadn't been able to save her from her pain. Had Callie sensed that in him? His fear, his hesitation? His inability to truly love.

“What should I do, Lord?”

He hadn't even realized he'd said that out loud until he heard the echo whispering back at him. Tomas leaned his head against one of the sturdy columns, memories tearing through him with a knife-edged sweetness. He had not imagined last night. That had been real. The kiss had been real. Callie had been here with him, in spirit, in the flesh, in her heart. He'd seen it, felt it, memorized every aspect of their time together.

But he wouldn't call her again and he wouldn't try to find her. He wasn't a stalker, after all. He was just a lonely man who'd finally opened up that protective shield he'd managed to create around himself.

The shield was back now. He'd give Callie time to explain why she wasn't responding, but in the meantime life had to go on. A lesson learned, a risk he'd shouldn't have taken and one he'd never take again. He'd stick to business from here on out. The best risk was a calculated one. Who knew that better than Tomas Delacorte?

He told himself all of these things, but he finally took a long breath and calmed down. Callie wouldn't do this to him. She just needed some time. He could give her that time. They'd both agreed to take things slow.

But he'd have to learn patience in the process.

* * *

“What do you mean?”

Callie's heart cracked at the sight of her father's eyes watering. “I'm not sure how bad it is yet, Papa. We have to do tests, get another biopsy and then, possibly more surgery.”

She looked toward Alma for help.

“We have to be hopeful,” Alma said, her left hand gripping Julien's. “We have to believe Callie will be okay. Dr. Griffin thinks with chemo he can hold off on any radical surgery for now. But he wants to start the chemo as soon as possible.”

Papa shook his head. “I know all about okay, girl. I want her to be well and free of cancer. We have to hope for dat, right?”

“Right,” Julien said, his expression solemn. “Alma and Callie are gonna fight this, Papa. You know how stubborn they can be. And Brenna, too.”

Papa's expression puddled into a frown. “Brenna? Has anybody talked to Daughter Number Three?”

“We're waiting,” Callie said, clearing her throat so she wouldn't burst into tears. “I won't upset her while she's on her honeymoon.”

“But she's gonna keep calling,” Papa replied. “What should I tell her?”

“I'll call her first thing tomorrow,” Callie said. “I'm just too tired tonight. I'll tell her I had a busy day today, which I did.”

“And I took the day off because I had a lot of morning sickness,” Alma added. “Which is true.” She glanced at Callie.

Callie could vouch for that. They'd both felt sick to their stomachs after hearing the doctor's report this morning.

Their father stared at them with big, solemn, concerned eyes. Then he inclined his head toward the picture of their mother that Brenna had painted years ago. It hung in the place of honor over the fireplace of his bayou home. “We are gonna beat dis. You have your mama watching over you,
chère.
So we just gotta batten de hatches and get on with getting you fixed up.”

He gave her a big, encouraging smile even while the tears streamed down his face.

“Papa...” Callie ran to her daddy's arms, unable to speak.

He held her close, patting her head the way he'd done when she'd skinned her knee long ago. Then he whispered sweet words into her ear.
“Lache pas la patate.”

Don't let go of the potato. Don't give up.

“I won't, I promise,” she replied, tears burning at her eyes. “I'll fight, Papa. I will.”

Alma and Julien both hugged her close, too. “We're right here with you,” Alma said. Julien winked at her then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Callie basked in the love and support of her family. But her heart ached to be in Tomas's arms, to feel his strength and his support. Last night, she'd finally opened her bruised heart. She'd finally given in to the emotions and the tides that kept pulling her toward Tomas. Had she known today would be different? Had she deliberately tested fate last night, in hopes that today would be a sunny, beautiful, normal day?