His Most Suitable Bride (19 page)

Not prone to feigning false humility, she answered the odious question without hesitation. “I am clever, Reese, dear, as evidenced by my vast and ever-increasing fortune, which, as you may recall—” she lifted her nose in the air “—has greatly benefited your own overflowing coffers.”

He started to say something, probably,
I earned most of the money without your help,
but she cut him off.

“Do you object to your son marrying my companion?”

“I think they make a lovely couple. I am quite fond of Miss Mitchell. I hope something comes of it.” The corner of his mouth turned down. “That’s not the point.”

Her brows rose. “But of course that’s the point.”

He jabbed a finger in the air between them. “You shouldn’t meddle in other people’s lives.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If not me, then who do you suggest should guide otherwise stubborn individuals to their happily-ever-after?”

His lips tightened. “You should leave the future up to the Lord. Stop playing God.”

The very idea. It was insulting. “I am but a humble servant of our Lord, directing misguided men and women in the proper direction. I never force a match.”

“No?”

“I nudge.”

“Beatrix, you cannot continue interfering in other people’s lives. One day you will make a false step.”

She waved this off with a flick of her wrist. “Don’t be silly. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

For the barest second he looked appalled that she would dare claim such a thing, then, in a stern tone, he said, “No one is infallible. You will make a mistake. It’s only a matter of time. I urge you to cease and desist—”

“Reese Bennett, you may be smart. You may be highly successful in your given field.”
You may be entirely too handsome for your own good.
“But you will not tell me what to do.”

He stared at her.

“I mean it.”

To her great surprise, he laughed.

Finished with their conversation—with the man himself—she turned on her heel and headed down the pathway to her home. Walking, or rather marching, with her head held high, served the very necessary purpose of cooling off her temper.

“Beatrix, darling,” the odious man called after her. “Haven’t you forgotten something?”

Her feet ground to a halt. Instead of turning around completely, the man didn’t deserve that much courtesy, she shot a haughty look over her shoulder. “What would that be, Reese,
darling?
”

“You promised to introduce me to the Hotel Dupree’s famous sea bass.”

“You still wish to dine with me this afternoon?”

“I would like nothing better.” The smile he gave her was quite devastating.

She pressed her lips tightly together in what turned out to be a failed attempt at returning that handsome smile.

“Come, Beatrix.” He reached out his hand. “My carriage is ready and waiting to take us across town.”

Well, why not? She spun back around and, in silence, head still lifted, took his outstretched hand.

When their fingers connected, then entwined, the smirk he shot her was full of masculine arrogance.

“You should know I am only accompanying you because, once given, I never break a promise.” She looked at him with narrowed eyes, daring him to comment.

With nary a word, he helped her into the carriage and settled on the opposite seat. His gaze warmed. “I apologize for upsetting you, Beatrix. It was unconsciously done.”

She noted he didn’t actually ask for forgiveness for what he said, merely for upsetting her. As apologies went, she supposed it wasn’t the worst she’d ever heard. Not the best, but certainly not the worst.

She could continue making him suffer, but no one would ever accuse Beatrix Singletary of carrying a grudge. “Apology accepted.”

“So quickly?” He leaned back in his seat and chuckled softly. “You do realize I was prepared to grovel.”

Ha, she knew better than that.

“Nevertheless,” she began, feeling far more generous than he deserved, “at times such as these, it helps to have a short memory.”

He inclined his head. “You are graciousness itself.”

“Of course I am.”

Having seized the last word, she leaned back in her seat and set out to enjoy a fine meal with equally fine company at a very fine hotel.

Chapter Nineteen

W
ith each step she and Reese took toward Charity House, Callie felt the tension seep out of him. He seemed more relaxed, as if a dark shadow had been lifted from his heart.

How well she knew the feeling, and how happy she was to see the light restored in his eyes. Ignoring the little flutter in her heart, she smiled up into his face.

He smiled back.

They were a single unit in that moment, united by the revelation of their individual secrets to one another. If only Reese wasn’t resolved to lead with his head, Callie thought.

If only she could settle for less than love in her own life. Perhaps then they could forge something lasting, something that would keep them together forever.

When they turned the final corner to the orphanage, she pulled him to a stop. “Tell me the real reason you chose to come with me to Charity House instead of dining with your father and Mrs. Singletary.”

“I
really
dislike sea bass.”

She laughed. “Very funny. But, seriously, Reese, why?”

He shot a glance over her shoulder, smiled secretively. “I’ve been thinking it’s time Beatrix Singletary found herself on the other end of a little matchmaking.”

“You’re joking.”

“Not even a little.” Returning his gaze to hers, he lifted an elegant shoulder. “My father seems the perfect choice.”

She couldn’t think why. “But they disagree on most topics.”

“Precisely.” He leaned forward, lowered his voice. “Take a moment and think about it, Callie.”

Contemplating the notion, she tapped her chin with her fingertip.

“Mrs. Singletary and your father, as a couple? Why that’s brilliant.” Half appalled, half amused, another bubble of laughter slipped past her lips. “A bit startling, but brilliant.”

“I’ve been known to think fast on my feet.” He leaned over and gave her a boyish grin. “A talent that can be quite handy in the most startling, brilliant ways imaginable.”

Laughing in perfect harmony, they entered Charity House side by side. But then Reese pulled away, mentioning something about needing to find Marc.

Callie reluctantly let him go.

Feeling slightly abandoned—all right, a lot abandoned—she adopted a more leisurely pace than the long, clipped strides that had taken Reese so quickly away from her.

She’d barely moved into the main parlor when a small hand tugged on her skirt. A surge of affection seized her heart.

“Hello, Gabriella.” Callie crouched down to eye level, studied the pretty little girl. “I forgot to tell you this morning, but you look quite lovely in that dress. I particularly love the pink bow tied at your waist.”

“Look what I can do.” The child executed a perfect twirl.

“Very impressive.” Callie hugged the girl’s thin shoulders.

Gabriella clung for several seconds, then squirmed free.

“Where’s your brother?” she asked, mildly concerned. It wasn’t typical to find one Velasquez child without the other nearby.

“He’s in the tiger room. He and the other boys are playing with toy soldiers.”

“Sounds like...fun?”

“Uh-uh.” The little girl scowled adorably. “I’d rather bake cookies with you.”

“Already halfway done,” said a familiar voice from the doorway.

Smiling, Callie straightened to her full height. Temperance Evans stood silhouetted in a ray of sunlight, looking really quite beautiful as she returned the gesture.

“Don’t tell me you cook, too?” Callie asked.

“No, no, no.” The headmistress gave a brief shudder. “My mother always used to say that if you can make sense of a recipe, you can make any dish. But I’ve discovered it’s a bit more complicated.”

Callie didn’t disagree. Even something as basic as deciphering simple measurements could present a challenge to someone unschooled in the various abbreviations.

Miss Evans frowned down at the child holding onto Callie’s hand. “You are not to be in the main parlor, Gabriella. It’s against house rules.”

Though her words were somewhat stern, Miss Evans ran a gentle hand over the child’s hair as she added, “You must rejoin the other little girls playing jacks on the back porch.”

Gabriella buried her face in Callie’s skirt. “I want to stay with you.”

Frustration flashed in the headmistress’s gaze, followed by a genuine note of sympathy.

Before Miss Evans could decide which emotion to give in to, Callie spoke first. “What do you say, Gabriella?” She pried the little girl away from her skirt. “Want to come with me and see what’s happening on the back porch?”

“No.” The child stared at the floor. “I want to go find my brother.”

Miss Evans sighed.

Callie leaned down and captured the child’s gaze with her own. “You don’t want to play jacks?”

The child’s eyes welled with tears. “I want Daniel.”

“Go on, Miss Mitchell. Take the child to her brother.”

Less than five minutes later, Callie stood on the edge of the tiger room, named after the massive mural painted on the far wall. The scene depicted a large jungle cat prowling through a detailed world of vines, trees, beautiful waterfalls and all sorts of colorful, exotic animals.

The boys, grouped into two separate teams, were facing off in what looked like a ferocious battle of some sort. They weren’t alone, either. Reese and Marc Dupree were on the floor with them, squaring off with one another from opposing sides.

They were so involved in their game, nobody noticed Callie and Gabriella. Callie took the opportunity to watch the skirmish in silence. Or rather, she watched Reese.

Her heart dipped to her toes. Reese. Oh, Reese. This was what he would be like as a father. Sprawled out on the floor, tin soldier in hand, playing as if he were another one of the children, caring little for the dirt and smudges on his clothes.

Daniel, sitting on Reese’s left, caught sight of his sister. “Gabriella, come be on my team. We’re playing marshals and outlaws.”

The little girl rushed over to her brother and plopped down beside him.

After patting her on the head, Reese handed Gabriella a tin soldier. “We’re the good guys,
Marshal
Velasquez.”

The little girl beamed up at him.

“You have too many people on your side,” the boy sitting beside Marc whined.

“Yeah,” another one added. “That’s not fair to us.”

“Callie, come quick.” Marc motioned her to take the empty spot next to him. “It’s up to you to even out the numbers.”

Even out the numbers.
That had been nearly the exact same argument Mrs. Singletary had used when she’d insisted Callie attend her dinner party all those weeks ago.

Much had changed in her life since that night. She was no longer a piteous wallflower content to hide in the shadows. Nor was she satisfied with camouflaging her light behind ugly clothing.

The woman she was today fully embraced the transformation her employer had originally hoisted upon her. Happily willing to accept she was a child of God, worthy of love.

Reese had been instrumental in the change. Was it any wonder she loved him?

She loved him?
Why, yes. She did. Callie loved Reese. The realization should have come as a shock, but instead it spread through her like warm honey, sweet and appealing yet also a little sticky.

Callie knew while she might never win Reese’s heart, she had to try.

“Move aside, boys.” She settled in beside Marc, and then locked her gaze on Reese. “Let the battle begin.”

* * *

This was the woman Reese had always suspected lurked inside Callie. Beneath the ugly clothing and off-putting facade was a beautiful, fierce warrior princess. A woman who bravely stepped out of the shadows and tackled life head-on.

Mesmerized, Reese watched her take up her position as one of the
outlaws.
Appropriate, given that this woman could easily steal his heart if he didn’t take care.

There were far worse fates a man could suffer.

Why, Reese wondered, had he avoided her all these years? Why had he kept his distance for so long?

He knew, of course.

Deep down, he’d sensed her fighting spirit, her passionate loyalty for the people she loved. That hidden ferocity had alarmed him. He’d been too hobbled by guilt over Miranda’s death to recognize the beauty of Callie Mitchell. By thinking he needed to maintain control at every turn, he’d steered clear of this charming, daring, magnificent woman.

In an ironic twist, it was Callie who’d helped him let go of Miranda and allow his wife to finally rest in peace.

Toy soldier in hand, a husky growl came out of her throat, followed by a delighted giggle. Reese couldn’t take his eyes off her.

He made a mental note to add
not afraid to get dirty
and
willing to play with toy soldiers
to his latest bride list.

Even dressed in her Sunday best, Callie battled as valiantly as any of the boys in the room. But, alas, her efforts—and those of her team—weren’t enough. The good guys won.

Daniel and Gabriella jumped up and down, cheering with the rest of their teammates.

As Reese watched the siblings’ uninhibited celebration, joy and relief filled him. He couldn’t be more pleased by their transformation.

Wondering if she’d noticed the change in the children, as well, he glanced over at Callie. A mistake. He’d let his guard drop a second too long. In the next instant, he was tackled playfully by his teammates. Fingers and elbows jabbed at him. He took a foot in the gut, one in his chest, and all he could think to do was...

Laugh.

It felt good to laugh. Freeing.

Not only was Miranda finally at peace but so, too, was he.

Hovering from a spot overhead, Callie peered down at him with one of her prettiest smiles. “Want help up?”

He rolled out from under the tangle of arms and legs, then stretched out his hand. “Please.”

The moment their palms pressed together he felt it, the sensation of coming home, of finding his place in the world, of letting go the fight.

Strangely lightheaded, he let Callie pull him to his feet. Staring into her eyes, his throat began to burn with unexpected emotion. He swallowed. “You are a fierce opponent, Miss Mitchell.”

“Something you should keep in mind, Mr. Bennett.”

“I like a good challenge.”

“Then considered yourself warned. One day, victory will be mine.”

“Watch yourself, Reese.” Smiling, Marc clasped him on the shoulder. “The Mitchells give no ground. They take no prisoners. It’s a marvel we lost the game.”

Eyes narrowed, Callie pointed a finger at Reese. “We’ll get you next time.”

He started to say something along the lines of
you’re welcome to try,
when he caught a movement in the doorway. The new schoolmistress stood beside Laney Dupree, watching the shenanigans from a safe distance.

Both women were smiling, but only Laney carried the smile into her eyes.

In fact, Temperance Evans looked excessively stiff. Her gaze was distant, as well. Standing intentionally apart from the action, she reminded Reese of Callie.

Or rather, the old Callie. The new Callie was the most approachable woman he knew. He was growing quite fond of the changes in her.

“I see we missed out on all the fun,” Laney said with a hint of remorse in her tone.

Miss Evans looked more than a little relieved.

Carrying two of the younger boys upside down in either hand, Marc sauntered over to his wife and kissed her square on the mouth with a loud smacking sound.

“Oh, stop.” She playfully pushed at his chest. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

That earned her a dry chuckle from her husband.

Grinning, Marc set the boys on their feet. At the same moment, Laney announced, “Milk and cookies are waiting in the kitchen.”

Cheers erupted, followed by a mass exodus toward the door.

Marc halted the stampede with a piercing whistle. “Everyone, freeze.”

Silence dropped over the room like a cannonball falling from the sky.

“You know the rules.”

“No running inside the house,” half the children said, while the other half grumbled under their breath.

Shoving away from her spot at the door, Miss Evans took charge.

“Follow me, children.” She turned on her heel, then glanced back over her shoulder. “Remember, we walk in an orderly fashion, single file, no pushing or shoving.”

She didn’t raise her voice, or speak overly harsh, yet every child obeyed her directives, lining up one by one, single file, tallest to shortest, Gabriella near the rear behind her brother.

Marveling, Reese stepped aside to let the children pass.

Once the last little boy trooped into the hallway, Marc let out another, softer whistle. “I bow to your expertise,” he said to his wife. “Miss Evans was a perfect hire.”

“I do so love being right.”

He gave her another loud peck on the cheek. “I know that, my love.”

Everyone laughed.

“You know, Laney—” Marc wiggled his eyebrows “—playing Marshals and Outlaws is hard work. I could use a cookie myself. What about you, Reese?”

Reese adopted the same hopeful tone as the other man. “I wouldn’t say no.”

Marc leaned around him. “Callie? What about you?”

“I also enjoy cookies.”

“Then follow me.” Laney motioned them into the hallway. “Quickly, now, before they’re all gone.”

As if in silent agreement, Reese and Callie took up a position side by side and fell in step behind the Duprees. Only as they wound their way to the stairwell did Reese realize Callie had grown unnaturally quiet. The fight hadn’t exactly left her, but she seemed less...bold. Not quite as feisty.

He glanced over at her, noticed her face held a thoughtful expression. A lot was going on in that complicated mind.

Wondering if he was the cause of this alteration in her mood, he waited until they hit the first-floor landing then tugged her off to one side.

Marc halted, as well, a question in his eyes.

“I need to speak with Callie before we join you in the kitchen.”

Brows traveling toward his hairline, Marc’s gaze turned suspicious.

Reese rolled his shoulders in annoyance. “We’ll stay out in the open. Where you can see us.”