Upon a Midnight Clear. Gail Gaymer Martin
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and closed the lid. He hefted the box into the air, then disappeared beneath the porch roof.
Agnes remained by the door, and when Callie turned back and faced the room, the housekeeper gestured through the doorway to the bedroom. Callie lifted her luggage and followed her inside. The modest bedroom, too, illustrated a feminine hand. Delicate pastel flowers sprinkled the wallpaper that ended at the chair-molding. Below, the color of palest blue met a deeper blue carpet.
“Agnes, this is beautiful.” She wanted to ply the woman with questions about Sara and how she used the charming rooms.
“Mr. Hamilton hoped you’d like it.”
“How could I not? It’s lovely. So dainty and feminine.”
Agnes nodded and directed her to a door that opened to a walk-in closet; across the room, another door led to a pristine private bathroom, graced by a claw-foot bathtub.
As she spun around to take in the room once again, David came through the doorway with the box.
“Bricks?” he asked.
“Nearly. Books and things.”
“Ah, I should have guessed. Then you’d like this in the sitting room.”
“Please.” Callie followed him through the doorway.
David placed the box between the desk and the bookshelves. “I’ll be right back with the other. Much lighter, I’m happy to say.”
Callie grinned. “No books.”
He left the room, and she returned to Agnes, who hovered in the doorway.
“Miss Randolph, did you want me to help unpack your things?”
“Oh, no, Agnes, I can get it. And please call me Callie. The ‘Miss’ stuff makes me nervous.” She gave the woman a pleasant look, but received only a nod in return.
“Then I’ll get back to the kitchen,” Agnes said as she edged her way to the door.
“Yes, thank you.”
Agnes missed David by a hairbreadth as he came through the doorway with the last box. He held it and glanced at Callie.
“Bedroom,” Callie said, before he asked, and she gestured to the adjoining room.
David turned with his burden and vanished through the doorway. Before she could follow, he returned. “So, I hope you’ll be comfortable here. I still want to get a television for you. But you do have a radio.”
Callie’s focus followed the direction of his hand. A small clock radio sat on the desk. “The rooms are lovely. Just beautiful. Did your wif—Sara decorate them? They have a woman’s touch.”
“Yes,” he said, nodding his head at the sitting room. “She used this as her reading room, and she slept here if she worried about Nattie’s health. The bedroom was the baby’s nursery then.”
“I couldn’t ask for a nicer place to stay. Thank you.”
He glanced around him, edging backward toward the door, his hands moving nervously at his sides. “Then I’ll let you get unpacked and settled. Dinner will be at six. We’re celebrating this evening. We have a couple of guests for Nattie’s birthday.”
“Really? I’m glad I’m here for the celebration. And pleased I brought along a couple of small presents. I’d be embarrassed to attend her birthday party empty-handed.” She kept her voice level and free of the irritation that prickled her. Why hadn’t he thought to tell her about the birthday?
“I’m sorry. I should have mentioned it.” A frown flashed over his face, yet faded as if another thought crossed his mind. He stepped toward the door. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
He vanished through the doorway before Callie could respond. She stared into the empty space, wondering what had driven him so quickly from the room.
Glancing at her wristwatch, the time read four-thirty. She had an hour-and-a-half before dinner. She needed time to dress appropriately if they were celebrating Nattie’s birthday.
The word birthday took her back. Nattie was six today, so close in age to her own child, who had turned six on Christmas Day. Her chest tightened as the fingers of memory squeezed her heart. Could she protect herself from loving this child too deeply? And why did Natalie have to be six? Eight, four…any other age might not have bothered her as much.
She dropped on the edge of the bed and stared at the carpet. With an inner ache, she asked God to give her compassion and patience. Compassion for Nattie, and patience with herself.
As he waited for Callie’s entrance, David prepared his guests for her introduction. Reverend John Spier listened attentively, and his sister Mary Beth bobbed her head, as if eager to meet someone new in the small town of Bedford.
“How nice,” Mary Beth said, lowering her eyelids shyly at David. “Since I’ve come to help John in the parsonage, I’ve not met too many young unmarried women. Most people my age have already settled down. I look forward to our meeting.”
“Yes, I hoped Callie might enjoy meeting you, too.”
“Although once John finds a proper bride, I assume I’ll go back to Cleveland…unless God has other plans.”
David cringed inwardly, noticing the young woman’s hopeful look, and wondered if he’d made a mistake inviting the pastor and his younger sister to the birthday dinner. The evening could prove to be difficult enough, depending on Nattie’s disposition.
Looking toward the doorway, David saw Callie descending the staircase. “Here’s Callie, now. Excuse me.” David made for the doorway.
By the time Callie had reached the first floor, he was at the foot of the staircase. Caught off guard by her attractiveness, David gazed at her burgundy wool dress adorned with a simple string of pearls at her neck. The deep red of her gown emphasized the flush in her cheeks and highlighted the golden tinges of her honey-colored hair. As he focused his gaze, their eyes met, and her blush heightened.
“I see the party has already begun,” she said. “I heard your voices as I came down the stairs.”
“Now that you’ve joined us, everyone’s here but the guest of honor.” A sigh escaped him before he could harness it. “I invited our new pastor and his sister. I thought you might like to meet some of the younger people in town.” He motioned for her to precede him. “We’re in the living room.”
She stepped around him, and he followed, watching the fullness of the skirt swish around her legs as she walked. The movement entranced him. Passing through the doorway at her side, he pulled his attention from her shapely legs to his guests.
As she entered the room, John’s face brightened, and he rose, meeting her with his outstretched hand. “You’re Callie.”
“Yes, and you’re David’s pastor.”
“John Spier,” he said, then turned with a flourish. “And this is my sister, Mary Beth Spier.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Callie said, glancing at them both.
The young woman shot Callie an effusive grin. “And I’m certainly pleased to meet you. Being new in town myself, I’ve been eager to meet some young woman who—”
“Have a seat, Callie.” David gestured to the love seat. Interrupting Mary Beth was rude, but he couldn’t bear to hear her announce again that she was one of the few single women in town. David chided himself. He should have used more sense than to invite a young woman to dinner who apparently saw him as a possible husband.
When he joined Callie on the love seat, she shifted closer to the arm and gracefully crossed her legs. His attention shifted to her slim ankles, then to her fashionable gray-and-burgundy brushed-leather pumps.
John leaned back in his chair and beamed. “I hope we’ll see you at church on Sundays.