Wanted: A Family (12 page)

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Authors: Janet Dean

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: Wanted: A Family
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She’d need a list of house rules. Something she hadn’t considered.

Pastor Steele took a look at Callie’s face, then came around the desk and perched on the corner. “God has called you to this, but that doesn’t mean you can ignore the important details of such an undertaking.”

“You’ve given me a lot to think about. And act on.” She released a breath. “I feel overwhelmed.”

He smiled. “I feel the same way much of the time.”

“All I know to do is take it one girl, one day at a time.”

“When we’re doing God’s work, we can expect opposition. But these women will be blessed to have you on their side.” He pulled a chair next to hers. “Shall we pray about this unwed mothers’ home? Ask God to provide everything you need to make it a reality, including wisdom and support.”

After the prayer, Callie left the church filled with peace. They’d asked God for His help. With His power, she’d strive to anticipate and deal with every obstacle, every problem. But, ultimately, the outcome rested with Him.

Pastor Steele would prepare hearts and counsel those who needed him. Mildred would donate funds to support it—Callie was sure of it. Perhaps even Commodore would contribute items to clothe fatherless babies.

Callie headed home, eager to share Pastor Steele’s reaction with Elise. Perhaps even with Jacob. He’d lived in an orphanage. Surely he’d be pleased to hear that the pastor had given her counsel and supported her plan.

 

Jake finished his errand in town and arrived back at Callie’s house, toting a bag of cement. A load of bricks would be delivered tomorrow. He saw no activity around the place, then remembered that Elise was visiting her mother. Callie hadn’t returned from town. And shouldn’t for a while, giving him the perfect opportunity to examine the newspapers.

He entered the house by the back door and strode to the main hall, then on toward the library. The door was closed. Not unusual with Callie’s dislike of clutter. Inside he discovered that the piles had been separated by decades. Much easier to find what he wanted. Within minutes he found the year and month of his birth. To make sure he didn’t miss a birth announcement, he’d check June as well.

He carried a stack to a chair and went over each one with painstaking care, searching for anything that would give him a clue to his identity.

And came up with nothing.

No one by the name of Smith appeared to have lived in the town. Had his mother given him an alias when she left him at the orphanage? If that were true, what was the likelihood that she’d stay in town to give birth? The only baby born on May 21, 1877 was a girl. If that was even the year he was born.

He rose and returned the stack to the desk. What to do next? With the newspapers a dead end, he’d talk to Mildred Uland, the woman most likely to know town gossip, especially from twenty-three years ago.

“What are you doing?”

Jake jerked toward the open door. Callie. He hadn’t heard her enter the room. He stepped away from the desk. “I uh, thought I’d kill some time looking at these newspapers. Hope you don’t mind.”

Her accusing gaze locked with his. “Why didn’t you ask permission?”

“I didn’t think it mattered.” He took in her tight mouth and the pucker between her slim brows. “Obviously, I was wrong.”

She shoved back her shoulders. “Why go behind my back? I would have gladly shown you the papers.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you’d be upset.”

“After that kiss… After what we’ve shared, I thought I could trust you. Obviously, I was wrong.”

Jake wanted to deny her claim, to tell her she could trust him. To tell her the reason he needed to look at the newspapers. But if he did, she’d want to know more. He couldn’t risk telling her everything.

By the look in her eyes, he’d not only made her mad, he’d hurt her. He hadn’t meant to, but saying that wouldn’t impress Callie. If anything, his denial would make her angrier.

A man’s actions proved his trustworthiness.

From the frown puckering her brow and the icy chill in her eyes, she wanted him gone. He had money enough to stay somewhere else, but he wanted to be here, to make this house habitable for her and for Elise. With that crumbling, faulty chimney that risked their safety, he had to say something to ease her disquiet.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve asked first.” He motioned to the newspapers. “I was looking for information on the Odd Fellows’ building downtown. The edifice is unique, made me think of the work of an architect my boss talked about.”

The guardedness in her eyes didn’t ease.

He’d just lied to Callie. And she knew it.

“I want you to leave.”

Her words cut into him like a knife. “I can’t. Not yet. The chimney isn’t safe. If it isn’t fixed, you risk being overcome by carbon monoxide.”

A flash of consternation swept across her face. “Nothing would make me happier than seeing you go. But I need to ensure the house’s safety.” She folded her arms across her chest. “We’ll forget this happened.” She turned to go, then pivoted back. “This time.”

He heard the warning. She’d given him another chance.

If only he’d been able to tell Callie the real reason he’d needed to look at the newspapers. But if he did, she’d want to help. She’d want to get involved. She’d want to get close.

And that meant she’d learn the truth. The truth of who Jacob Smith really was. That he’d spent almost a year in prison. That
Smith
might not even be his real name. That a jury of his peers had judged him a loser.

But when Callie had looked at him, he’d seen a different reflection in her eyes. A faith in him that made him feel seven feet tall, instead of like a lowly worm. She’d made him believe in himself, something he’d lost.

If she discovered that he was a former convict, that look of respect he’d seen in her eyes would disappear forever. Better to endure her ire, and hope she’d forgive him, than lose her regard.

 

Callie watched Jacob leave the house and walk to the barn. His shoulders hunched like he carried the weight of the world on his back. She felt the same way. Until he repaired the chimney, she would try to put the incident with Jacob behind her.

What choice did she have? Unless the flue was repaired,
fumes could kill them all this winter. She couldn’t take such a risk. A list of jobs he’d planned to do paraded through her mind. The windows on the north side of the house needed replacing. The house needed to be scraped and it needed a coat of paint. Nothing hazardous there, but the possibility that the house wouldn’t be returned to its former glory sank inside her.

Jacob had entered her home without permission. He’d only needed to ask to see the newspapers. That he hadn’t asked left no doubt in her mind. His excuse for examining the newspapers had nothing to do with architecture and everything to do with concealment.

Concealment had been Martin’s forte. Her throat tightened as memories raced through her mind. Martin had hidden his selfish nature behind a jolly exterior. He’d hidden overspending, keeping bills from her until a storekeeper in town would ask her for payment. He’d hidden his frequent absences from work to go fishing and hunting by telling Commodore he was sick or handling a chore for her. A chore he never intended to do. Time after time, he’d lied to her. Each time had chipped away at her respect for her husband. Caught red-handed, he’d always been sorry.

Just like Jacob.

She’d thought Jacob Smith was the exact opposite of Martin—hardworking, dependable, a man who meant what he said. How wrong she’d been.

Loretta had said Jacob looked familiar. A chill snaked down Callie’s spine. Could she have seen Jacob’s face on a wanted poster?

No, Jacob might be devious, might not be the man she thought, but he wasn’t a criminal.

Then what was he up to?

She’d thought they might have a future together. What a fool she’d been to even consider a relationship with a man
without faith. With a man who kept things hidden. With another man who concealed his true nature.

She’d thought Jacob’s past had left him wounded. That he didn’t want to open that pain to others. Now she questioned the motive for his secrecy. Did he have a more sinister reason for not opening up and sharing his past?

The attraction between them was undeniable. Well, she wouldn’t act on it. How could she have started to care for the wrong man? Again?

Once he made the repairs on her house, he would leave, exactly as she wanted it. Her breath caught. Who was being dishonest now? For when he did, Jacob would take a piece of her heart with him.

That was all he’d get. She’d protect the rest with every particle of her will. And never let Jacob Smith get close again.

Chapter Twelve

C
allie greeted Loretta, stepping aside to let her in.

Across the way, Jacob hauled bricks in a wheelbarrow toward the barn—no doubt, preparing to repair the faulty flue in her chimney. At the sight of him, her heart skipped a beat. She quickly looked away, tamping down the silly reaction to a man who was all wrong for her. A man who deceived. A man without faith.

Loretta handed Callie a basket of muffins, still warm from the oven, then wrapped Callie in a hug, eyeing her. “You’re upset about something.”

“Actually, I’ve had a good day.” Until her run-in with Jacob, her statement was true. For some reason, Callie couldn’t share Jacob’s uninvited entrance into her house and obvious lie with her friend.

“Any special reason?”

“The water’s hot. Join me for a cup of tea and one of these muffins.” She inhaled. “They smell wonderful.”

While Callie prepared a pot of tea, Loretta leaned against the counter, fiddling with the button on her dress. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Callie smiled. “Great, in fact. I’m not so tired these days.”

With Callie carrying the pot and Loretta following with cups and napkins, Callie led the way to the table in her sun-drenched, sprawling kitchen.

As they took their seats, Loretta turned to her with a grin. “That handsome handyman of yours is getting more done in a few weeks than Hal accomplishes all year. Does he help with the chores?”

“He does.” She wanted to deny that Jacob made her life easier, but she couldn’t. Helpful or not, if Loretta knew the reservations Callie had about Jacob, she’d insist that Callie send him packing.

Callie would, as soon as he repaired the defective chimney. Others in town could do the repair, but the money to pay them would deplete funds needed for the unwed mothers’ home.

Loretta lost her smile. “I saw the mention of your dinner party on the Society page and the columnist’s reaction to your unwed mothers’ home. That’s why I’m here.”

“I knew you’d want to help. Could you handle the funds while I took care of the details of housing the girls? We—”

Loretta raised a hand, cutting Callie off. “Before you get too far, let me explain. I didn’t want to say anything in front of Elise, but I can’t support your plan.”

“You’ve been kind to Elise. I assumed…”

“Callie, its one thing to take in Elise, a neighbor girl we all love, but to bring total strangers with who knows what kind of pasts into your home is risky. Perhaps Hal’s job makes me wary, but I’m afraid of what this unwed mothers’ home will bring to our town.”

“I thought you’d be my biggest supporter. Might help with fundraising.” She sighed. “Everyone in town listens to you.”

“I’m sorry. But, to speak frankly, I think your idea is crazy.”

Loretta’s words landed in her stomach like a stone. “Why?”

“A home for unwed mothers will cause trouble. Trouble this town doesn’t need. Right now we have a close-knit community. People will take sides. One thing will lead to another until Peaceful is anything but.”

“Once people get used to the idea, they’ll see the importance of providing a refuge for these girls.”

Loretta’s eyes narrowed. “Those girls could be lawbreakers, have arrests or jail sentences in their pasts. We can’t risk opening our children or this community to riffraff.”

“Riffraff?” Callie’s cup hit the saucer with a clink, splashing tea onto the table.

“Right now Hal doesn’t do much to ensure the peace. Other than an occasional fracas in the saloon, the cells in the jail sit empty. That’s the way we want to keep it.”

“I want the same thing.” She laid a hand on Loretta’s sleeve. “You’re overreacting. I’m taking in young women, not hardened criminals.”

“Your heart is in the right place, but I can’t go along with this idiocy.”

“Have you prayed about it?”

“No, I guess I haven’t.” She moved her arm away. “But don’t think making me feel guilty will change my stance. I have personal reasons for objecting to this unwed mothers’ home.”

“Like what?”

“Our boys are seventeen and eighteen, at that age when… Well, when young ladies are fascinating creatures. They’re inexperienced and fool enough to fall for some girl’s helpless charms. One or both could offer marriage to solve a
need for a daddy for her baby and a husband to take care of her bills.”

“Then tell your sons not to get involved with them.”

Loretta harrumphed. “You have a lot to learn about parenting. Our boys are at an age when telling them what to do will only make them sneak around to do just the opposite.”

“These girls will have been burned. I doubt they’ll be hunting for a man, but—”

“You’re naive. Who knows why these girls end up pregnant? Their babies could be the result of rape, even incest. Or maybe they’d slept with several men and have no idea who fathered their babies.”

“You’re expecting the worst, but—”

“Okay, let’s give them the benefit of the doubt.” Loretta rose and paced the floor, then stopped in front of Callie. “They’ve made a mistake like Elise. They’re good girls who want to start over. And give their babies a happy life. But you can’t know which kind of girl will be coming to your home. If you expect them to be honest about their pasts, you’re mistaken.”

Callie had to convince Loretta of the worth of her endeavor. “Sit down, please. Let’s talk calmly about this.”

Loretta did as Callie asked, but with a frown on her face.

“The Bible tells us to love our neighbor. Sometimes giving that neighbor what he needs is a risk, as it was for the Good Samaritan. While he ministered to the injured man, he could’ve been beaten and robbed. But he didn’t consider the cost. Instead, he gave his time and his money to see that the man received good care and recovered fully.”

Loretta threw up her hands. “The Good Samaritan
stumbled across the victim. He didn’t go looking for someone in trouble.”

“Loretta, surely you remember what happened to Nell.” Unable to continue, she bit her lip.

“I do. And I’m sorry, Callie, but surely you care about my sons more than girls you’ve never met. Give up this plan for George and Henry’s sakes.”

“Your boys know right from wrong. And who’s to say—maybe these girls will be God’s answer for their wives.” Loretta gasped.

Callie took Loretta’s hand. “You don’t really believe these girls deserve forgiveness, do you?”

“You’re wrong. I’m not judging them. I’m afraid of where this will lead.”

“All I know is that you’re putting up roadblocks to these girls’ chance to start over. To be loved while they carry and deliver their babies. Whether you see them as a mistake or not, these babies are created by God.”

“Are you being honest with yourself? Is concern for these girls the real reason you want to do this? Or are they replacing the family you’ve lost?”

Callie winced. Loretta’s words stung like a slap in the face. Yet she’d heard the truth in them. Her motive for the unwed mothers’ home might not be as Godly as she’d thought, but that didn’t make her decision wrong.

“It’s true that I love having Elise with me. The house was like a tomb before she moved in. But the promise I made Nell at her funeral is my reason for this step. I’d even talked to Martin about it. Not that his reaction was any better than yours.”

“You can’t know that these girls won’t come to a horrible end, like Nell. If so, you’ll be left to pick up the pieces.”

“I can’t run my life expecting the worst.” She shivered, suddenly unsure if she could handle the job.

“I’m sorry, but my sons and the other young people in town are more important to me than these girls. Their loose behavior could spread like a rotten apple through a bushel. Our children might think intimacy before marriage is acceptable.” Loretta rose. “Too much is at stake. I will fight you on this.”

“What will you teach your children by your stand? That you don’t trust them to do what’s right? That you won’t heed God’s leading if doing so involves risk?”

Loretta’s jaw jutted. “I’ll do anything to protect my boys. You’ll understand that better when your baby arrives.”

Tears sprang to Callie’s eyes. “You believe I’d make decisions that would harm children? I’m trying to help children.”

“I’m sure your intentions are good, Callie. We both know where they lead.”

With that her friend left by the back door. Without sharing their usual hug. The unwed mothers’ home had put a rift between them. A rift that might never heal.

Oh, Lord, am I doing the right thing? Am I following Your will? Is my unwed mothers’ home contrary to Scripture?

In the parlor, she pulled her Bible from the table and onto her lap. Grateful for privacy, she looked up Scriptures about orphans, about Jesus’s treatment of prostitutes and sinners of every variety. Nothing she found convinced her that caring for these girls displeased God.

Quite the opposite.

In the back of her mind, a nagging worry took hold. Would this unwed mothers’ home split the community? Peaceful had been good to her, had rallied around her. The possibility of her friends and neighbors turning against her twisted in her stomach.

What if Loretta was right that her motivation for
establishing this home was to fill the hole in her heart rather than to fulfill a need for these girls?

Right motivation or not, she felt called by God to house unwed mothers. How could she refuse? She would obey. No matter what the cost.

Lord, help me be strong. Strong enough to handle the job.

Except for God, she might be handling it alone.

 

Callie sat across the table from Elise. Rain poured down the kitchen windows, all but hiding the outbuildings from view. Jacob had mentioned that the roof of the lean-to leaked during the last rain. He’d been too busy repairing her chimney and cracked ceilings to see to his own comfort. Here she sat in a snug, leak-free house, thanks to him. Even if she was still upset by the excuse he’d made for sneaking into her house, she couldn’t allow Jacob to stay out there getting drenched.

“You should invite him in.”

Callie turned toward Elise, her stomach fluttering at the prospect of having Jacob in the house again. In this kitchen. The place where he’d massaged her feet. But she wouldn’t admit that to Elise. “You read my thoughts. Will you make some popcorn while I go out to the lean-to and invite him?”

“I’ll get out the dominoes, too.”

Callie wrapped her fringed shawl around her shoulders, grabbed the umbrella and slipped out the door, raising the umbrella over her head. Picking her way between puddles, she arrived at the lean-to door and knocked. “Jacob, it’s Callie.”

The door opened to the ping of water hitting metal buckets. One pail sat in the middle of the floor. The other stood
between her and Jacob like a sentry. Her heart squeezed at the dismal cramped space where he spent his nights.

Jacob planted a hand against the frame and leaned toward her, his muscles bulging through the sleeve of his shirt. “Hi,” he said flashing a lazy grin. The hollow in his cheek put a hitch in her breathing and rooted her to the spot. “Why are you braving this downpour?”

“You can’t stay out here with the roof leaking. Come up to the house. Elise is making popcorn.”

“Are you sure you trust me inside?”

She heaved a sigh. “I trust you inside the house, or I wouldn’t have invited you. But that doesn’t mean I believe your excuse for looking at the newspapers.”

“I’m sorry, Callie. I shouldn’t have lied.”

She waited. No explanation came. What was he hiding? “You’re not going to tell me why, are you?”

“Can you just trust that I have my reasons? Good reasons that I’m not able to share with you. Not yet.”

Her eyes traveled his face, searching for furtiveness but seeing only candor. Yet, his admission didn’t provide the answers she needed. She couldn’t force him to confide in her, but she wouldn’t open her heart to a secretive man.

“I guess I’ll have to. Let’s go before we both get soaked.”

He shrugged into his jacket, then took the umbrella and wrapped an arm around her, shielding her with his body. As they navigated the puddles to the house, the heat from his skin drew her to him like a moth to a flame. She knew where that led.

Inside, Elise greeted them along with the aroma of popcorn. Elise dished up the snack into a large bowl, Jacob poured apple juice while Callie gathered napkins.

Elise set the bowl on the table. “Did you feel like a drowned duck in that leaky lean-to?”

“A smidgeon,” Jacob admitted with a grin. “But my feathers are well-oiled.”

Elise giggled. “At least you’re not waddling like me.” She proceeded to do a good imitation of a duck, as she moseyed to her seat.

Laughing at her antics they all sat and turned the dominoes black side up.

With Jacob at her side, taking up more space than a mere man should, the intimacy of their last private moment in the kitchen rose between them like a living, breathing thing. Callie vowed she’d never make the mistake of being alone with him again.

Her hand brushed Jacob’s as they both reached for popcorn and every rational thought fled. Why did the slightest touch of this secretive man affect her this way?

“Remember you score if the dots total anything divisible by five.” Elise laid down double-fives, grinning from ear to ear. “That makes ten.” She wrote the number under her name. “I have a feeling I’m going to win.”

“We’ll see about that,” Jacob said, plunking down a piece with five on one end, ten on the other. “That makes twenty.”

Elise harrumphed and wrote the number under Jacob’s name. “Are you sure you haven’t played dominoes before?”

“Not this way.” He grinned. “But it doesn’t seem hard.”

Callie had no play. Moaning, she drew a domino. This one played. She added her piece to the string of dominoes but didn’t make any points.

Eyes dancing with mischief, Jacob rearranged his dominoes and cocked his head to her, looking handsomer than a man should. “Looks like things aren’t going well for you.”

“As if you care,” she said, rolling her eyes.

As Elise studied her options, Jacob’s gaze locked with hers. “Oh, but I do. More than you know,” he said.

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