The Hand-Me-Down Family. Winnie Griggs
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destination, the tighter the tension inside him coiled. Everyday sounds like dogs barking and harnesses jangling seemed both magnified and distant. He felt eyes focused on them from every angle. It was as if the two of them were the main characters in some sort of stage play, only he’d forgotten all his lines and even which role he was assigned.
“Watch your step.” He automatically took her elbow as the sidewalk ended. As soon as they stepped down onto the well-packed dirt path, she withdrew her arm. But not before he felt the slight trembling of her muscles.
So, the lady wasn’t as composed as she wanted him to think. Was it because she’d already figured out what had happened?
Or because she still didn’t trust him?
The main section of town gave way almost immediately to greener expanses. Up ahead was Sweetgum’s schoolhouse. The church was just beyond, close enough that it was difficult to tell where the schoolyard ended and the churchyard began.
Both of these places had been a central part of his world, his life, at one time. But no more.
He’d outgrown the schoolroom at sixteen.
He’d outgrown the church a few years later, when he’d decided it was finally time to get away from Sweetgum and strike out on his own.
Jack shook off those memories as he led his companion across the schoolyard, past the church building and up to the white picket fence that marked the boundaries of the cemetery.
He paused and turned to her, removing his hat and raking a hand through his hair.
She stood there, rooted to the spot, her eyes wide, her gaze fixed on the neat rows of grassy mounds.
“Ma’am?”
She started, and her gaze flew to his.
Her pallor roused a protective response in him. She looked nearly as white as the ribbon on her bonnet. Jack could see the shock, the inner battle she was fighting between denial and a sickly acceptance.
Was he going to have to deal with a swooner after all?
“Steady now.” He took her elbow. “I’m sorry to break it to you like this. But I thought it was better to have a bit of privacy. I—”
She raised a hand. “No, I understand.” Her gaze slid back to the somberly peaceful green, and she swallowed audibly. “Was it the fire?”
He nodded.
“And your sister?”
Ah, Nell. His sweet, peacemaker of a sister. To die like that…
Not trusting himself to speak, he pulled the crumbled telegram from his pocket and handed it to her. He didn’t have to look at it again to know exactly what it said.
The words were burned into his memory.
Café fire. Nell, Jed, Lanny killed. Please return to Sweetgum earliest possible. Children need you.
Callie tasted the bile rising in her throat as she read the terse missive. These people were her newly acquired family, the people she had so eagerly looked forward to meeting and befriending. To learn that they had died under such horrific circumstances…
Everything seemed to go silent, to pull back from her. A heartbeat later her vision clouded over and the earth swayed under her feet.
“Whoa, there.”
Mr. Tyler’s hand was under her elbow, steadying her, lending her a measure of strength.
Sounds and objects came rushing back into focus, racing to keep pace with the emotions that careened through her like water rushing over a fall. Horror at the thought of their deaths, confusion over what this meant for her future, and a guilty relief that her husband had not deliberately shunned her after all.
She attempted to smile at her concerned brother-in-law. “Thank you. I’m okay now.”
He raised a brow. Probably worried she’d faint on him.
“Look, there’s a bench over yonder under that cottonwood.” He nodded his head in the direction of a tall leafy tree. Then he cleared his throat. “Why don’t we sit for a spell? It’ll be cooler in the shade and you can tell me the story of how you came to be married to my bother.”
Callie glanced toward the cemetery, then nodded. She could pay her respects to Leland after she and his brother had their talk.
Then she realized how selfish she was being. These people were his family, his siblings and the people he’d grown up with. “I’m sorry to have made this more difficult for you, Mr. Tyler,” she said softly. “And my condolences on your loss.”
He nodded silently, leading her across the grounds.
“When did it happen?” Callie was still trying to take it all in. “The fire, I mean.”
He released her arm as they reached the bench. “Four days ago.” Both his face and voice were controlled, giving no hint of whatever emotion he might be feeling.
Then it hit her. She plopped down onto the bench. Could it be?
She clasped her hands tightly and stared up at him. “Do you know what time?”
His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Pardon?”
“At what time did your brother die?” She heard the shrillness of her tone, saw his brow go up. No doubt he thought her hysterical. But right now she didn’t care.
He lifted a hand, palm up. “I don’t know. I wasn’t here. I only—”
“Do you have any idea?” she pressed. “Morning? Afternoon? Please, this is important.” Her heart beat with a dull thumping as she waited for his response. A few hours one way or the other could make all the difference in the world.
The thing was, she didn’t really know what answer she wanted to hear.
He scratched his chin. “Virgil did mention the café was nearly empty because it was after lunch…”
“I see.” She sagged back in her seat, not sure whether she was relieved or disappointed.
Help me to see Your will in this, Father. Because right now, all I feel is confused and adrift.
“And just why does the time matter so much?” Jack asked, interrupting her silent prayer.
Callie dug in her handbag and pulled out a packet of papers. She stared at them for a moment, then held them out to him. “Because, as you’ll see if you look through these documents, your brother and I were married by proxy four days ago. At exactly ten o’clock in the morning.”
She gave him a humorless smile. “Which means, since the ceremony occurred before the fire, I am indeed a widow without ever having met my husband.”
Chapter Four
As he took the papers from her, Callie closed her eyes, trying to absorb the fact that she had become a widow without ever knowing what it meant to be a wife. Yes, it was true that Leland had meant this to be a marriage in name only, but she had secretly hoped that, given time…
Stop it! Callie gave herself a mental shake. She should be mourning the man, not the end of some foolish daydream.
More to the point was the fact that she no longer had a reason to be here.
Had she come all this way for nothing?
Heavenly Father, I thought this was Your answer to my prayers. But was I too impulsive yet again? Was this mere wishful thinking on my part rather than Your intent for me? Please, help me understand what it is You want me to do now.
The sound of rustling papers drew her attention back to her companion.
He leaned forward, pinning her with that intense gaze again.
Her skin prickled. Even though they