Heaven Sent (30 page)

“
Good morning, Becky. No
lasting ill effects from last night’s excitement, I
trust?”

Becky ran up and kissed him on the
cheek. He returned her kiss. Callie’s heart squeezed.

“
No, Papa. I went right back
to sleep.” She giggled. “Monster looked funny last night, sitting
in the corner of Great-Aunt Evelyn’s room.”

“
Indeed.” Aubrey folded the
newspaper and laid it beside his plate. Finally, he looked at
Callie. “Good morning, Miss Prophet.”

“
Good morning, Mr.
Lockhart.” Callie tried not to stare at him.

She wished to goodness he wasn’t such
a handsome man. He always looked so neat and tidy, too. Never
overdressed or underdressed, but always appropriately attired, no
matter what the day was to hold. This morning, for instance, he was
wearing a sober black suit, perfect for church.

He always attended church, too, which
Callie thought was telling. After all, it was a father’s duty
example for to set an example for his children. As much as she
wanted to criticize him as a father, and often did, she couldn’t
lay non-attendance at church at Aubrey’s door.

It was Mrs. Granger’s custom to lay
out breakfast on the sideboard of a Sunday morning. Callie went to
the sideboard and picked up a plate. “Would you like some eggs and
a biscuit, Becky’?”

“
Yes, please. And bacon,
too, Please.”

“
Certainly. There’s some of
Mrs. Granger’s good, home-cured bacon right here. One piece or
two?”

“
One, please.”

Callie scooped up a small portion of
scrambled eggs, plopped it onto Becky’s plate, and set a biscuit
and a piece of bacon next to the eggs. She carried the plate to
Becky.

“
Would you like to say
grace, Becky?”

Folding her hands neatly in front of
her, Callie bowed her head. Casting a sidelong glance at Aubrey,
she saw him roll his eyes, as if he could conceive of nothing more
out of character than the hoyden Callie Prophet asking his daughter
to say a morning prayer, and she pressed her lips
together.

For heaven’s sake, it
wasn’t
her
fault
nothing had ever happened in this mausoleum of a house before she’d
arrived in it! When she heard Becky say a perky, “Amen,” she
realized she hadn’t listened to a single word of the little girl’s
grace.

Some kind of nanny she was. Feeling
grumpy and out of sorts, Callie murmured, “Thank you, dear,” and
went back to the sideboard to get her own breakfast.

It was only when she sat at her
customary place at the table that she noticed they were short one
family member. She glanced sharply at Aubrey, “Where’s Mrs.
Bridgewater?”

He smiled at her. It was a rather
chilly smile, full of teeth and no feeling. “She opted not to dine
with us this morning, but to go back to San Francisco as soon as
she rose from her bed. I can’t imagine why.”

Callie huffed.

Aubrey continued, “John has taken her
to the train station. She was complaining of a headache at the
time.”

“
Oh.” A stab of guilt smote
Callie. She knew last night’s fiasco was all her fault—and hated
knowing it. Nevertheless, she knew how to set an example as well as
Mr. Perfect Lockhart, so she said, “I’m very sorry I allowed
Monster to get away from me last night. I trust Mrs. Bridgewater
won’t suffer any lasting ill effects from the excitement.” She
opted not to mention the bite.

A giggle from Becky surprised both of
them. They turned to look at the little girl who grinned broadly.
“I’m glad Monster bit her,” she announced. “She’s mean, and I don’t
like her.”

Callie didn’t know what to say to
that. When she looked at Aubrey, hoping for some kind of guidance,
she saw he wasn’t helping at all, In point of fact, he was grinning
back at his daughter.

This was no way to teach a child
proper behavior. Unfortunately, Callie agreed with Becky on the
Bilgewater issue. “Well,” she temporized, “I should have kept
better tabs on Monster.”

“
I don’t know. It might have
done Mrs. Bridgewater some good. I know it did me some
good.”

Callie blinked at Aubrey, unable to
believe her ears.

“
Me, too!” Becky said, and
she giggled again. “It was funny, him sneaking in there and biting
her on the ear.”

Turning her head, Callie blinked at
Becky.

“
Sometimes it pays to be a
cat,” Aubrey said then, in a meditative sort of voice. “I mean, you
can’t get away with biting people on the ear if you’re a human, can
you?”

“
No.” Becky went off into a
peal of laughter.

Callie, deciding there was no point in
joining this conversation, muttered, “And some people call me
unruly.”

“
They do, don’t they?”
Aubrey’s grin was so devilish, Callie blushed.

*****

Aubrey managed to be polite to all the
inquisitive matrons he encountered after church and was proud of
himself. He didn’t feel polite.

Every time another mother greeted him,
often with her stiff and stuffy husband at her side, he wanted to
snap and snarl. He wondered if Monster had felt this same
lion-on-the- prowl sensation in his gut when he’d stalked into
Bilgewater’s room last night, seeking prey. Aubrey’s innards were
heaving and twisting and giving him a terrible time, and the truth
was that he wished he could bite every single damned one of those
mothers on the ear. And their damned husbands and children,
too.

Damn Callie Prophet and her damned
birthday party. This morning he felt like a specimen in a science
laboratory—a butterfly pinned to black velvet, perhaps. He got the
feeling that every Santa Angelican in church was talking about him
behind his back. He’d managed to hold himself aloof from Santa
Angelica society before yesterday’s blasted party. Today he felt
like fresh meat.

Perhaps because he intended to ask
Callie to marry him as soon as he got the opportunity, he was
particularly sensitive to atmosphere. In truth, his nerves were
skipping like drops of water on a sizzling skillet.

He was probably only being fanciful.
He did his best to appear nonchalant as hordes of his neighbors,
most of whom had never spoken to him before today, came up to shake
his hand and thank him for entertaining their children the previous
day. He even remembered to smile most of the time. He felt like a
limp rag when the Lockhart contingent finally escaped from the
throng.

Both Callie and Mrs. Granger seemed to
think the heightened interest in him was a good thing. Aubrey
wanted to yell at them for it.

“
It’s so nice that you’re
getting to know the citizens of Santa Angelica, Mr. Lockhart,”
Callie said, and Aubrey could hear the satisfaction in her
voice.

“
Indeed, it is,” agreed Mrs.
Granger, who also sounded cheerful.

“
This will put the last of
the rumors to rest,” said Figgins.

Rumors
? Aubrey, who was driving the wagon since Mrs. Bridgewater had
taken the traveling coach, turned to stare at Figgins.

Delilah, who didn’t seem to notice his
shocked expression, said, “Well, you know, it’s only because people
make up stories when they don’t know the truth.”

“
True, true. It’s better
that folks know the truth.” Mrs. Granger’s voice was a model of
complacency.

It was Callie who finally laughed at
him, as if she couldn’t resist another second longer. Aubrey
frowned at her.

“
Oh, don’t look so grumpy,”
she told him. She held Becky on her lap. The two of them made a
lovely picture, with Callie in sober brown, and Becky in buttery
yellow. Callie and Becky didn’t look a bit alike, but they went
well together, if one were only looking. Aubrey looked a lot.
“There weren’t any bad rumors,” Callie went on to say. “People
mostly talked about how sad it was about Mrs. Lockhart.”

“
I see.” Aubrey still didn’t
like it. It wasn’t pleasant to learn that one had been a topic of
idle conversation among one’s neighbors for months without knowing
about it.

“
But now that the mothers
have met you and understand that you’re only human, I’m sure their
curiosity will be satisfied.”

“
Good God.” This sounded
dire to him. Whatever would happen when the townspeople learned
that he and Callie were going to be married?

If, of course, she agreed to marry
him.

But why wouldn’t she? She’d be fixed
for life if she married him, and would never have to worry about
money again. Aubrey wasn’t sure, because he hadn’t really thought
about it much and had never asked, but he suspected Callie might
have had a difficult time making ends meet after her parents’
decease. Why else would she have secured employment at the post
office?

It was all he could do to sit through
dinner at noon that day. He knew the food was good because Mrs.
Granger was a superb cook and her Sunday dinners were always
wonderful, but he couldn’t taste a thing,

Offhand, Aubrey couldn’t recall
another single time in his life when he’d been as nervous about
some impending event as he was about his impending proposal to
Callie Prophet.

*****

Callie brooded about why Aubrey had
knocked at her door the night before all through the sermon that
Sunday morning. She wanted to keep her mind on the sermon, but it
was boring, and so she brooded. After church, outside events
occurred to keep her occupied, thank heaven.

Fortunately, she had Becky to care
for, so she wasn’t able to fret much. When, however, Aubrey asked
if she could please come to his office for a chat after dinner, she
almost fainted. She wondered if he was going to reveal the reason
he’d come to her door last night. One second, she hoped he would;
the next second, she hoped he wouldn’t. If he made an improper
proposition to her, she supposed she’d have to leave his employ.
She wasn’t sure she could bear doing that.

Drat Aubrey Lockhart! The man was a
fiend.

Unless, of course, he wasn’t. For all
Callie knew, he was going to propose another jaunt to San
Francisco. to visit Anne’s relations.

Callie wished her nerves would settle
down. This was awful. “Of course, Mr. Lockhart. I’ll be there as
soon I take Becky upstairs for her nap.”

Aubrey nodded and left for his office.
Callie watched his back until Becky claimed her focus.

“
Do I have to take a nap,
Miss Prophet?”

Forcing herself to pay attention to
the little girl, Callie smiled at her. “You ask me the same
question every day, Becky, and every day I give you the same
answer.”

“
I know it, but I’m
seven
now.”

“
My dear, I’m almost
twenty-seven, and I’d love to be able to take a nap every
afternoon,” Callie said. She swept Becky up from the floor and into
her arms, and was pleased when Becky laughed with
surprise.

“
When I grow up, I’m never
going to take a nap,” she announced.

“
Pooh. I don’t believe it.
Grown-ups always want to take naps.”

“
How come?”

Carrying her charge up the staircase,
Callie sighed. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I guess it has something
to do with responsibilities or something.” And worry. Worry could
tire a person out. Callie knew it for a certified fact.

Her footsteps dragged when she left
Becky to her nap and went downstairs. She paused before Aubrey’s
office door in order to collect her wits, straighten her skirt, pat
her hair, take a deep breath for strength, utter a brief silent
prayer, and knocked.

“
Miss Prophet?” Aubrey’s
voice sounded as anxious as Callie felt. Oh, dear, what did this
mean?

“
Yes,” she said. “It is
I.”

“
Please, come
in.”

She was about to do just that when the
door opened, startling her, and causing her to jump about a foot
into the air and sending her heart ricocheting around in her chest.
Slamming a hand over it in hopes of settling it down, she felt
herself blush,

“
I beg your pardon,” she
said.

“
I beg your pardon,” he said
at the same time. He recovered first. “I didn’t mean to startle
you.”

She waved his apology away. “Oh, no,
it’s not your fault.” It was her fault for being as nervous as a
native facing a charging hippo, although she didn’t add that
part.

“
Well, I didn’t mean to
startle you,” he repeated. “Please, come in. There’s something I’d
like to discuss with you.”

Discuss with her? Perhaps that meant
he wasn’t going to fire her. She hoped he wouldn’t ask her to get
rid of Monster, though. Not only would it break her heart and
Becky’s heart to be parted from the idiotic cat, but Callie had a
feeling Monster would object. When cats objected to being moved
from one location to another, they seemed to have an uncanny knack
of returning to the first location. She wasn’t sure Aubrey would
understand that as the nature of cats, but would blame the cat’s
return on her.