Rocky Mountain Redemption (19 page)

Maybe Ben was right. Maybe she was fooling herself to believe that she could make it on her own while raising a daughter. She didn't want to rely on others. She never again wanted to place herself in such a vulnerable, helpless position.

She had her fiery will. Stubbornness. She was a survivor.

But there was one element she felt sorely lacking deep in her heart…peace. Peace she could trust in. Rely upon. Rest in when her journey took her over rough spots. She could stand on her own two feet, insisting on carving out a new future, but the fact that Mr. Whiteside lurked a day away somehow sealed her bleak fate. As much as she wanted to believe in second chances, she had to wonder if there would ever be hope for her.

Luke stepped over toward Libby and took her by the hand. “I told yer girl here that yer a hero.”

Callie's breath caught as Luke maneuvered Libby closer.

“You're right, Luke,” Katie whispered. “Miss Callie is a hero.”

“Yep.” Nodding, he stood behind Libby, his hands perched protectively on her shoulders. “And then she went and asked me what a hero was, so I told 'er. 'Member what I said?” He craned his neck around to look at Libby, eye to eye.

Libby slowly nodded, her sweet innocent gaze flitting to the ceiling as if searching for Luke's definition there. With a determined nod, she fixed her enthusiastic gaze on Luke. “It's someone who's brave and cares 'nough about others that they do something big.”

“And…” he prompted, twirling his finger in a wagon-wheel motion.

“And brave.” Libby's long-lashed gaze rose to meet Callie's.

“Don't be shy, silly.” Luke gave the girl a tender nudge. “She's yer ma.”

Libby took another step closer. Then, as if breaching some wide, yawning gap in time, made a giant leap into Callie's lap. She wrapped her little arms around Callie's neck for a wonderful moment as Callie did the same, struggling to hold back a deep cry.

She barely worked a swallow past the thick lump in her throat. She hadn't allowed herself to feel for years, and in the past few weeks she'd fought to stay one step ahead of the emotions nipping at her heels. The fear, the sorrow, the anger and even the joy all made her feel horribly vulnerable, prey to anyone who'd choose to use it for their own gain.

Her eyes burned with the lingering effects of smoke and heat and unshed tears. Still, she risked crying in front of all of these people she'd come to care so much about, and pulled Libby close, pressing a gentle kiss on her silky, auburn hair. The emptiness that had filled her arms and heart for the past six years seemed to lessen some.

She stroked a trembling hand down her daughter's petite frame, closing her eyes and breathing in the fresh, little girl scent she'd been deprived of for so long.

What would happen tomorrow, when Lyle Whiteside returned for his money?

Libby pulled back, peering intently at Callie. “You're brave, Mama.” She carefully settled her hands at Callie's cheeks. “Luke thinks so. And I think so.”

“And I think so…” came Ben's smoke-rasped voice.

Callie whipped her focus over to see him, his searching gaze locked on hers. The unmistakable love she'd seen in his eyes that night at the dance was there again, and sent a tremor shimmying all the way up her spine.

His mouth drew up in that heart-stopping half grin of his. “You were very brave, you know,” he rasped with a lazy wink. Then he gave his head a long, slow shake. “But don't
ever
scare me like that again.”

“I—I… You'd gone in—” She shifted in her chair to face him, drinking in his easy smile, the way his eyes sparkled, the way a faint shadow already hinted at his strong, masculine jaw. “I couldn't leave you there.”

“Thank you.” His quietly uttered words whispered over her like the gentle way he trailed his fingertips down her cheek.

It was useless to try and tame the wild beat of her heart.

“How are you feeling?” Joseph stepped closer to the bed.

“Are you havin' pain?” Luke edged his watchful gaze from Ben's head to his quilt-covered toes.

“Not enough to be stuck in this bed.” Ben threw back the covers.

Callie yanked her focus to the sturdy pine headboard. “What are you doing?” She craved a small peek at his bare chest, but instead, pinned him to the feather-down mattress with a wide-eyed stare, settled directly on his face. “You need to stay in bed. At least for the time being.”

With a sigh, he conceded, lying back as Luke rustled the covers over him and smoothed them back into place again. The creased brow and innocent look Ben flicked to her couldn't have been more than puddle-deep. “Look
at what happens…I'm out of commission for a few hours and you've gone from
just
Callie to Doctor Callie?”

“Apparently you can give orders better than you can take them,” Katie retorted, sidling down to the end of the bed and nudging his foot.

“Yes, and believe me,” Joseph added. “With the instructions you mumbled to Callie as she patched you up, you ought to be glad she knew enough on her own about what she was doing.”

The slightest of winces wafted over his face as he held his arms out, surveying the thick, gauze wraps. “I must not have been very coherent. Huh?”

Callie grinned wide. “Umm…not exactly.”

“I taught you everything you know. Right?” He gave Callie a pulse-quickening wink then reached out to touch a fingertip to Libby's nose. “How are you, sweetie?”

“Jest fine.” Libby scurried to sit on the bed, perching quietly next to Ben, her dainty fingers edging over the bandage wrapped around his head. “Are you gonna be good again?”

“Thanks to your mama and uncle Aaron, I'm going to be fine. I'll probably be up and going before the day's out.”

Luke frowned at Ben. “But I thought you said…”

“Yes, what was it that Ben said?” Callie put in, raising her brows and encouraging Luke to continue.

As soon as Luke caught on, he gave his head a single nod then looked down at Ben with eager dedication. “You said that when a body's sick they gotta rest. So they don' get worse. That's what you say all the time. I heard it with my own ears,” he added, plucking his ears for effect.

“Luke's right,” Joseph added, chuckling.

Ben huffed. “But I—”

“You got a banged up head, Ben.” With great conviction, Luke folded his arms at his chest. “I heard the crash all the way from outside. Scairt me half t'death.”

“You've been through quite a lot today,” Katie added.

Callie breathed a sigh of relief at that uniquely Ben kind of warm, comforting light that had settled into his gray-blue eyes.

“Why don't I take Libby and Luke home with me?” Katie smoothed a hand over Callie's back as she leaned close. “We'll take care of the kittens and then bake some cookies.”

“The kittens are all right, then?” Callie pulled her head around, noticing that Katie's eyes pooled with tears. “They're all healthy?”

“They seem fit to me.” Joseph settled his hat back on his head. “Though, as little as they are, they probably wouldn't have made it much longer had you not gotten them out when you did.”

Relief washed over her. “I'm so glad they're doing all right.”

“Thanks for savin' my kittens, Miss Callie.” Luke wrapped her in one huge hug. “Mr. Joseph found me another box to put 'em in, and after Miss Katie warmed up some milk and gave 'em some food they went right t'sleep.”

“They did.” Libby nodded her vigorous agreement. “They're sleeping now.”

“No wakin' 'em this time, Libby.” Luke angled a squinty-eyed look at her. “Like Ben says, when ya been through somethin' bad, ya need yer sleep. And the kittens went through somethin' real bad this mornin'. Fact, they're prolly the only kittens who survived a fire like that, I'd think.”

With a solemn shake of her head, Libby threaded her little hands together beneath her chin. “Promise. I won't even touch the box.”

After Katie and Joseph ushered the children out of the room, Callie was left alone with Ben.

She should be overjoyed right now. Luke's mama had her sights set on the right path, the kittens were safe, Ben was alive and things with her daughter had just taken a miraculous turn for the better.

Deep inside, though, she felt strangely empty. She craved peace as much as she did her next breath. But it seemed so elusive.

Without being able to reconcile her past, the painful history that followed her like some stealthy predator, she'd never fully enjoy the bright outlook of each new day.

But no matter how much Ben would protest and insist otherwise, she'd never leave Boulder without Libby. And she couldn't—wouldn't ask Ben for money to pay off the rest of the debt. He'd already given her so much. As wily as Thomas Blanchard was, Ben had to have paid a generous sum to bring Libby home with him. Scoundrels like Blanchard didn't make gestures like that out of the goodness of their hearts.

Likely, the man didn't even have a heart.

Trapped once again by the decision she faced, she pulled in a long, slow breath. She raised her head to find Ben's crystalline gaze settled on her, the effect penetrating all the way to her core.

“Thank you again, Callie. You did something today that most people wouldn't have considered.”

“I'm just glad you're all right,” she breathed, slumping in the chair and cradling her head in her hands. Thoughts of how horribly different circumstances could've been
rushed through her head, scavenging almost all of the emotional reserve she had left. “I wasn't sure we were going to make it out.”

When she felt his hand settle like some warm claim at her back, she fumbled about for control. But as she turned and saw the way his eyes shone with care and unmistakable love, she barely bit off a small cry.

“You came after me. All alone, didn't you?”

Callie threaded her hands together in her lap. “You risked your life, Ben. For me,” she breathed, gulping down the sense of shame she felt as her gaze inched from his bandaged hands, to his arms, to his head. “I don't know what I would've done if something had happened to you.” She shuddered at the thought that he could've died trying to save her. How could he risk his life, ransom his own fulfilling life to the flames like that? Just for Callie.

“A
nd I don't know what I would do if you'd been hurt. Or killed,” he said, his voice low and choked.

Regret at the caustic words Ben had said to her last night filled his mind. How could he have been so callous? How could he have so easily allowed his frustration to rule his words?

He'd so much as called her a harlot.

Just seeing the vulnerability that weighed her down, the suspicions didn't matter. None of it mattered. Whatever her past, whatever her present, it just didn't matter.

He needed her.

He wanted her.

He loved her.

And if she had some things to overcome, then so be it. Didn't everyone have some kind of secret that loomed too difficult to face?

He'd seen the way God had been softening her heart. The three times she'd been to church with him, and when she'd sat and listened with rapt attention while he'd read to Libby from the Bible, his heart had swelled at the hunger he'd seen in her eyes. As though she wanted
so badly to reach out and partake of God's goodness and mercy and unconditional love.

But something always held her at bay.

“I felt so helpless when I called and you didn't answer, and when I couldn't see to find you through the smoke.” His breath hitched at the awful memory as he moved a hand to the side of his head where bandages hid a deep, long gash. He blinked against the stinging moisture crowding his eyes. “When I felt the beam hit me, I thought for sure you and I were as good as dead.”

Slamming his eyes shut, the same old, haunting regret shook the chains that had held him hostage for so long. He'd failed those dearest to him. He couldn't seem to rescue those he loved the most. What he did, the grand efforts he made, just weren't enough.

“What, Ben? What's wrong?” Callie leaned over him, her hand resting against his cheek. Her light breath whispered feather-light over his face.

He grasped her hand. “In those seconds before I lost consciousness, it was you that I thought of, Callie. And how I wished I could go back and do things differently.”

She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You don't need to do anything differently. You've been good to me, Ben. It's time you let others take care of you for a change.”

The way she touched him with such tenderness, and the way she looked at him, as if pleading with him to rescue her from her silent pain, sent his heart into a shuddering frenzy inside his chest.

He'd often pondered that she was much like the strays he'd rescued. Had God really meant all along for him to rescue her? Not just from the here and now with a job and a warm home, but from the pain of her past?

It would be just like God to defy all of Ben's thoughts and plans and assumptions. It would be just like God to bring a woman whose history intertwined his with such delicate force that it would be an undeniable connection. A forever and always bond marked by providential design.

“Your arms and head and hands…do you think they'll heal?” Her concern penetrated his heart.

He nodded, taking in the beautiful, faint way her fingertips trembled against his cheek. “I'm sure they will.”

She turned his hand over in hers and stared down at the bandages. “You'll have scars.”

“Probably,” he agreed, raising her chin with a crooked finger. “But everybody has a scar or two, somewhere.”

He couldn't miss the way her hand strayed as if by some involuntary force to her side. And the protective way shame shuttered her vulnerable gaze, leaving him feeling as if she'd stood up and swept out of the room.

If he was going to help her and free her, then he'd have to take a risk. “I know about your scars, Callie.”

“What?” She threaded her hands, white-knuckle tight.

“Katie told me about them after she'd helped you with that bath. At first I couldn't imagine the scars were from Max, but now I know. They had to be from him. And I'm sorry.” He lifted her gleaming auburn hair from her forehead. When he lightly brushed his fingertips along the red puffy scar marring her hairline, he struggled to reconcile how a man—how Max—could be so cruel. “So sorry you had to endure that kind of treatment.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she tugged his hand away from the scar. “That's in the past. It's all in the past. And it's surely no fault of yours.”

He pushed up to sitting, not quite able to take the words to heart. “Well, I'm not likely to believe that anytime soon. I'm sorry for the things I said last night. I care about you, Callie, and I want to spend every minute I can showing you just how much I care.”

He desperately wanted to reach that part of her, the area of her heart held back by some powerful, unseen force. “When I look in your eyes I see things that make me hurt. Right here.” He pointed to his heart.

The look she gave him, that look that begged to be rescued, was like some pleading cry he could never, ever ignore.

“I want to help, but I can't if you won't let me,” he said, his voice low and tight.

He wondered if he might never be able to unlock that prison. That maybe he had to trust God to reach her and free her from the chains that held her so firmly.

He settled his searching gaze on hers, looked deep enough to see the longing in her eyes, a desire that was meant just for him. He loved Callie. Not because deep down she yearned for love. Not because she was Max's poor, mistreated widow. Not because she needed to be loved.

But because God had led her straight to Ben's heart.

Because she was perfect for him.

Because she was just Callie.

“You're right…the scars are in the past. And Max did plenty wrong, but one thing he did right…he sent you to me.”

 

“What is all of that?” Ben asked, catching the distinct stench of smoke as he peered down into the bag Aaron
had dragged in with him. “It smells like you've been digging around in the fire rubble.”

“I have.” Aaron settled his hat on the back of the chair with a bandaged hand.

“Why would you do something like that? There couldn't have been much worth saving in that house.”

From the burlap bag, Aaron pulled the charred remains of a stethoscope and the blackened skeleton of a medicine bottle.

Ben's face flamed hot. And when Aaron hefted out the small scale that had come up missing just last week, his heart skidded to a halt inside his chest.

“These things were in the rubble?” He knelt down across from Aaron, taking the stethoscope in hand.

“Yep. There were other things, too, but some of it was too burned to even recognize.” He plucked out the warped remains of tweezers. “The fire was so hot. Even a day out, and some areas were still smoldering.”

Ben touched the heat-deformed pan to the scale. “I can't believe it,” he whispered.

He'd always seemed to give others the benefit of the doubt, but in this instance he'd listened to whisperings of accusation.

“How did you know to look there?” he asked, perplexed. “I've never said anything to you about the missing items.”

“Actually, Luke came to see me.” Aaron fiddled with the iodine bottle. “He's been feeling mighty bad, because he'd only borrowed the items.”

Ben sighed, sickened at how easy it had been to accuse and condemn—and how very unlike God that was. “Here I thought Callie had taken them.”

Aaron met his shame-filled gaze with one of his own. “We've both been guilty of accusing her, Ben.”

He gave his head a disgusted shake. “I should've been more trusting. I accused her—silently, but still, I accused her.”

“Well, if it's any consolation, you've never done anything but defend her honor—to me, anyway,” Aaron said, bracing a hand on Ben's good shoulder. “Luke wanted to tell you himself. But he wouldn't come in here. He thought you'd be mad at him.”

Ben eased himself into a chair, his shoulder throbbing. “Please, would you mind getting him for me?”

“Sure.” Stashing the items back into the bag, Aaron stood. “Ben, I'm sorry. I was way out of line in the things I said about Callie. It doesn't matter what her past was.”

“Her past was with Max. And as far as I'm concerned, that makes her one courageous woman. I just know that she couldn't do what seemed obvious—no matter what proof points that way. She doesn't have it in her.”

“She showed more bravery than most men.” Aaron cleared his throat. “I don't know why I was so determined to bring her down. I guess maybe she represented Max. And, well…I have some things to take care of as far as that goes.”

“Believe me, I think we all probably have a bitter root or two stemming from our last couple of years with Max.” He eased a hand over his eyes, feeling the pull of the tight red skin. When he glanced up at his brother, he saw deep regret in Aaron's repentant gaze. “Now that you know that, you can deal with it. And I know you will. You're a good man.”

“Thanks.” Aaron nodded. “For everything.”

Everything? Regret and failure snapped at him as he remembered how incompetent he'd felt, how horrible he'd felt at not being able to turn the events for Aaron's
wife and baby. “I wish I could've done more for Ellie and the baby. I wish I could've saved them. For you.”

“I know you do.” Aaron's mouth formed a tight line. “You did everything you could. I don't blame you, Ben.”

Swallowing hard, Ben's eyes filled with hot tears. “Thanks,” he ground out, his voice tight and strained with emotion. “Thanks.”

Pulling in a slow breath, Aaron's knuckles whitened as he grasped the bag. “Someday, maybe I'll figure out why God thought it was best to take them when He did. Or maybe someday I'll just finally accept that they're gone.”

Ben nodded, astonished at his brother's dignity. “You're going to make it. It's going to be all right.”

 

With the locket cradled in her hand, and purposeful strides, Callie walked over to Ben's house where Libby had been keeping him company. She had to return the locket. And if worse came to worst, she'd have to humble herself enough to ask him for help. She didn't have a choice.

Maybe if she'd made it back home to her father, he might have loaned her the money, but that was a risk she couldn't take. With Libby in her care now, she wouldn't take off for her father's home and risk Whiteside tracking her down and hauling her back with him.

Since the fire yesterday, Callie had felt as if she'd been moving through life in slow motion. The entire Drake family and then some had been together at lunch today—a celebration of sorts. Even Aaron…

He'd taken her by complete surprise and apologized. For being so harsh toward her. For assuming the worst. For hoping to sway Ben's opinion regarding her. She'd
felt oddly vindicated, yet still without the peace she craved.

She was surrounded by all of the things she'd ever longed for…a loving family, her beautiful daughter and friends who cared.

But she didn't have peace.

“Your time's up,” came Lyle Whiteside's voice.

Steadying herself, Callie turned to find him slinking a heartbeat behind her.

“Did you hear me, girl?” He caught her arm in a meaty fist hold. “I've waited long enough. Either pay up what you owe now or you're comin' with me.”

Callie blinked hard, trying to calm the racing beat of her heart. Intimidation snaked around her, threatening to suffocate her will and hope. For a moment, she couldn't seem to grasp a single, coherent thought. When her frantic thoughts settled on her little girl, a fierce sense of protection rose within her. “I don't have all of it—yet. But I won't go with you.”

God, please…I need Your help.
Would God hear her this time? Would He help her? All morning long she'd prayed that He would turn the tide. Give her a second chance, just like He'd given Luke's mama a second chance, because Callie would never sell herself. Never that.

“I'm sure you don't want me getting the law involved in this,” he cautioned, wrenching her arm so hard she barely bit off a cry. “You wouldn't stand a snowman's chance in a hot box with all the cheatin' that husband of yours did.”

“Please, I'll have the rest for you soon,” she assured, struggling to keep the fear from her voice.

Feeling the locket in the palm of her hand, she stuffed it inside the pocket on her dress. If Whiteside got his
hands on it, she likely would never see it again, and she had every intention of returning it to Ben.

“I have a good job now and the pay is good. I'm doing everything I can to make right on what Max owed you.”

He yanked her toward the street. “Not everything. There's plenty more you could
do
for me.”

She fought to wrench her arm free. “If you'll just give me another hour…”

“Not another minute.” Whiteside tugged her toward the carriage that sat in the street like some fancy, black coffin. “You know me, Callie. I don't like being put off. With the way you ran out on me like you did, you should consider yourself lucky I gave you an extra two days.”

“Back away from her.” Ben's strong, authoritative voice broke through the nightmare. “Now.”

Whiteside glanced over his shoulder and pivoted. “This isn't your concern.”

Ben caught Callie's eye with a reassuring look. “She is my concern. And I'm telling you now…you better release your hold and back away.”

Whiteside tightened his grip on her arm. “It's not that easy. She's coming with me.”

She shook her head. “I won't go with you. I can't.”

Ben moved in closer. “As far as I'm concerned, you're taking her against her will. And that could get you into trouble with more than just me.”

“That's right.” Aaron strode out from behind the house. “You'll be in hot water with me, too. And probably the rest of this town.”