Читать книгу Upon a Midnight Clear - Gail Martin Gaymer - Страница 12

Callie stared ahead of her at the frail vision on the window seat. She and David stood in Nattie’s bedroom doorway for a moment, neither speaking. Finally he entered the room, approaching her like a father would a normal, happy child. “Nattie, this is Miss Randolph. She wants to meet you.”

Callie moved as close to the silent child as she felt comfortable doing. “Hi, Nattie. I’ve heard nice things about you from your daddy. I brought you a present.”

She detected a slight movement in the child’s body at the word present. Hoping she’d piqued Nattie’s interest, she opened her large shoulder bag and pulled out the books wrapped in colorful tissue and tied with a ribbon. “Here.” She extended her hand holding the books.

Nattie didn’t move, but sat with her arms bound to her knees.

Stepping forward, Callie placed the package by the child’s feet and backed away. She glanced at David. His gaze was riveted to his daughter.

He took a step forward and rested his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Nattie, how about if you open the present?”

The child glanced at him, but made no move to respond.

David squeezed his large frame into the end of the window seat. He lifted the gift from the bench and raised it toward her.

She eyed the package momentarily, but then lowered her lids again, staring through the window as if they weren’t there.

Frustration rose in Callie. The child’s behavior startled her. A list of childhood illnesses raced through her mind. Then other thoughts took their place. How did Sara die? Was the child present at her death? Questions swirled in her thoughts. What might have happened in the past to trouble this silent child sitting rigidly on the window seat?

David relaxed and placed the package on his knees. “I’ll open the gift for you, then, if you’d like.” Tearing the paper from the gift, he lifted the books one by one, turning the colorful covers toward her. “‘The Lost Lamb,”’ he read, showing her the book.

Callie looked at the forlorn child and the book cover. If ever there were a lost lamb, it was Nattie. The next book he showed her was a child’s New Testament in story form, and the last, children’s poems. Nattie glanced at the book covers, a short-lived spark of interest on her face.

David placed the books again by her feet and rose, his face tormented. Callie glanced at him and gestured to the window seat. “Do you mind?”

He shook his head, and she wandered slowly to the vacated spot and nestled comfortably in the corner. “I think I’d like to read this one,” Callie said, selecting “The Lost Lamb,” “if you don’t mind.” The child made no response. Callie searched David’s face, but he seemed lost in thought.

Leaning back, Callie braced herself against the wall next to the window and opened the book. She glanced at Nattie, who eyed her without moving, and began to read. “‘Oh my,’ said Rebecca to her father, ‘where is the new lamb?’ Father looked into the pasture. The baby lamb was not in sight.”

Callie directed the bright picture toward Nattie, who scanned the page, then returned her attention to her shoes. Callie continued. Nattie glimpsed at each picture without reaction. But, the child’s minimal interest gave Callie hope. Patience, perseverance, attention, love—Callie would need all of those attributes if she were to work with this lost lamb.

Glancing from the book, she caught David easing quietly through the doorway. The story gained momentum, as Rebecca and her father searched the barnyard and the wooded hills for the stray. When they found the lamb, who had stumbled into a deep hole, Nattie’s eyes finally stayed attentive to the page. When the lamb was again in Rebecca’s arms, Callie heard a soft breath escape the child at her side. Nattie had, at least, listened to the story. A first success.

“That was a wonderful story, wasn’t it? Sometimes when we feel so alone or afraid, we can remember that Jesus is always by our side to protect us, just like Rebecca protected the lamb. I love stories like that one, don’t you?” Callie rose. “Well, I have to go now, Nattie. But I hope to be back soon to read more stories with you.”

She lay the book next to Nattie and gently caressed the child’s jonquil-colored hair. Nattie’s gaze lifted for a heartbeat, but this time when she lowered her eyes, she fastened her attention on the book.

Callie swallowed her building emotions and hurried from the room. She made her way down the stairs, and at the bottom, filled her lungs with refreshing air. When she released the healing breath, her body trembled.

“Thank you.”

Callie’s hand flew to her chest, she gasped and swung to her left. “Oh, you scared me.”

David stood in the doorway across from the parlor where they had met. “You did a beautiful thing.”

“She’s a beautiful child, Mr. Hamilton. She breaks my heart, so I can only imagine how she breaks yours.”

“Call me David, please. If we’re going to live in the same house, ‘Callie’ and ‘David’ will sound less formal.”

She faltered, her hand still knotted at her chest. If we’re going to live in the same house. The meaning of his words registered, and she closed her eyes. He was asking her to stay. Could she? Would the experience break her heart once more? But suddenly, her own pain didn’t matter. Her only thought was for the child sitting alone in an upstairs room.

Callie stepped toward him. “Yes, if we’re going to live in the same house, I suppose you’re right… David. The ‘David’ will take some doing,” she admitted with a faint grin.

He extended his hand. “I pray you’ll make a difference in Nattie’s life. In our lives, really. I see already you’re a compassionate woman. I can ask for no more.”

Callie accepted his hand in a firm clasp. “I hope you’ll continue to feel like that.” She eyed him, a knowing expression creeping on her face. “You’ve already seen me with my dander up, as they say.” Her hand remained in his.

“Then we have nothing to worry about. I survived.”

“Yes, you did. And quite admirably. Thank you for trusting in my…youthful abilities.”

His hazel eyes captured hers and held her suspended until his words broke the spell. “It’s my pleasure.”

Callie gazed around her childhood bedroom, facing a new and frightening chapter in her life. Five times she had packed, heading for a patient’s home. But tomorrow was different.

Nattie appeared in her mind, the child’s face as empty of feeling as Callie’s would be when she stepped into David Hamilton’s home in Bedford. He was the last person she wanted to have know the fear that writhed inside her. She would step through the doorway with a charade of confidence. She had announced with no uncertainty that she could provide professional, compassionate care for Nattie. And she would.

The sound of Grace’s unhappy voice echoed in Callie’s head. “Bedford is too far away. Why must you be a live-in nurse? What if I need you? Dr. Swanson, right here in town, still needs an office nurse.” She’d heard the same questions and comments since she chose home-care. Tomorrow, another day—a new beginning.

Though she hadn’t finished packing, Callie’s thoughts dragged through her, sapping her energy. A good night’s sleep would refresh her, she thought. With that notion, she crawled into bed.

But Callie couldn’t escape her dream. It soon rose in her slumber, shrouded in darkness and mist.

In a foggy blur, his stare toyed with her, sweeping her body from head to toe, and her flush of excitement deepened to embarrassment. His smooth voice like a distant whisper echoed in her head. “Callie. That’s a lovely, lovely name. Nearly pretty as you are, sweetheart.”

An uneasy sensation rose in her, unexpected and unnatural. Why was he teasing her with his eyes? She felt self-conscious.

In the swirling darkness, he flashed his broad, charming smile, and his hushed voice touched her ear again. “You’re nervous. No need to be nervous.” He turned the bolt on the door.

The click of the lock cut through her sleep. Callie wrested herself from the blackness of her dream to the darkness of her room.

“Bedford’s only a couple hours away, Mom. I told you already, I can get back here if you need me.” Packing the last suitcase the next morning, Callie glanced over her shoulder at Grace. “I don’t understand why you’re worried. You’ve never needed me yet.”

Grace leaned against the door frame. “Well, I get older every year. You never know.” Grace’s pinched expression gave witness to her unhappiness.

Callie bit back the words that could easily have sailed from her lips: Only the good die young. Her mother was well-meaning, she knew that, but Callie found a chip growing on her shoulder when she spent too much time with Grace. She needed to keep that situation in her prayers—only God could work a miracle.

Callie chuckled out loud. “We have the same problem, Mom. I seem to get older every year myself. Any idea how we can fix that?”

Grace’s compressed features gave way to a grin. “Can’t do much, I suppose. I just worry. Your sister lives thousands of miles away. Kenneth is useless. Sons don’t care much about their mothers.”

“If you need Ken, he can be here in a minute. But you have to call him and let him know. Men just aren’t as attentive as women.” Guilt swept over her. She hadn’t been very attentive, either. And Grace was right—though she wasn’t ready for the grave, they had celebrated her sixty-fifth birthday. And no one was getting any younger.

A sudden feeling of tenderness swept over her. She was her parents’ “surprise” baby. At the age of forty, Grace had her “babies” raised. Patricia was fourteen, and Ken, eleven. Then came Callie, who was soon deemed the “little princess.” All her parents’ unfulfilled hopes and dreams were bundled into her. She had let them down with a bang.

A heavy silence hung in the room as Callie placed the last few items in her luggage. When she snapped the locks, she turned and faced her mother. “Well, I guess that’s it. I may need a few other things, but I’m not that far away. And at this point, I’m not sure how long I’ll be needed.”

The words caught in her throat. Already, the face of Nattie loomed in her mind. Her greatest fear was beginning to take shape. This child would continue to linger in her thoughts when her job was completed in Bedford. And could she walk away from another child? She prayed she could handle it.

Grace stood at the doorway, her hands knotted in front of her. “You’ll be coming back occasionally? So I’ll see you once in a while, then?”

“Well, sure. I’m not chained to the house. At least, I don’t think so.” She grinned at Grace, trying to keep her parting light. Most of her previous patients had lived in the area. Living in Bedford would make trips home a bit more complicated.

Grace heaved a sigh and lifted her smaller bag. Callie grabbed the larger piece of luggage and followed her mother down the stairs and out the door.

As Callie loaded her car, she shuddered, thinking of her dream the night before. She drew the chilled, winter air through her lungs, clearing her thoughts. She stood for a moment, staring at the house where her parents had lived for most of her life, remembering…

When she returned inside, Grace had lunch waiting on the table. Seeing the food as another attempt to delay her, Callie wanted to say “no, thank you,” but she had to eat somewhere. Noting her mother’s forlorn expression, she sat at the table.

“Thanks, this will save time. I should arrive in Bedford in the mid-afternoon, if the weather cooperates. I’ll have a chance to get settled before dinner.” She bit into her sandwich.

Grace raised the tuna salad to her lips, then lowered it. “Are you sure you’re safe with this man, Callie? He saw your references, but did you see his?”

Callie understood her mother’s concern. “I think seeing his daughter is reference enough. He’s not an outgoing, friendly man. I saw so much sadness in his eyes. Anyway, he has a full-time housekeeper who lives in. She looked comfortable enough. Though once I’m there, I imagine she’ll enjoy having the opportunity to go home.” Callie sipped her tea.

“You mean you have to keep house, too?”

Callie choked on her sip of tea. She quickly grabbed up her napkin to cover her mouth. “No, Mother. Agnes is from the community. She’ll be able to go home and visit her family. Since I’m there, she won’t have the responsibility to be the nanny. That’s all. He says I’ll have my own suite of rooms—bedroom, private bath and a little sitting room. And I’ll have dinner with the family. Now, don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Grace raised an eyebrow. “What kind of business is this man in to afford such a big home and all this help?”

“Limestone quarries and mills. They’ve been in the family for generations. His grandfather opened a quarry in the middle eighteen-hundreds, I think. Eventually his father took over.”

“Family business, hmm? Must be a good one to keep generations at it.”

“It is. I was really amazed. I picked up some brochures at the Chamber of Commerce office on my way out of town. So many famous buildings were made with Indiana limestone—the Pentagon, the Empire State Building, lots of buildings in Washington, D.C. So I’d say the family has enough money to get by.”

Grace grinned. “To get by? I’d say. One of those aristocratic families…with money to throw away.”

“Not really. It’s a beautiful house, but David seems down to earth.”

“David? What’s this ‘David’ business?”

“Mother.” Callie rolled her eyes, yet heat rose up her neck at her mother’s scrutiny. “Since we’re living in the same house, I suppose he thought ‘Miss Randolph’ and ‘Mr. Hamilton’ sounded too formal.”

“A little formality never hurt anybody.”

“I’m an employee, Mom. And he has no interest in me. The man’s not over the death of his wife.”

“Accident?”

Callie’s brows knitted. “I don’t know. He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. I’d already asked too many questions for someone who was supposed to be the person interviewed.”

“Never hurts to ask questions.”

“I’m sure I’ll find out one of these days. And I don’t expect to be with him much. Mainly dinner. He’ll be gone some of the time, traveling for his business. I’m there to be with Natalie. Nattie, they call her. She’s a beautiful child.”

“Just keep your eyes focused on the child, hear me?”

Callie shook her head. “Yes, Mother. I think I’ve learned to take care of myself.”

She caught a flicker of reminiscence in Grace’s expression, and froze, praying she wouldn’t stir up the past. Grace bit her tongue, and Callie changed the subject.

“The area is lovely there, all covered with snow. And imagine spring. The trees and wildflowers. And autumn. The colored leaves—elms, maples, birches.”

An uneasy feeling rippled down her back. Would she see the autumn colors? Nattie needed to be ready for school. If the child was back to normal by then, her job would be finished.

“It’s snowing,” Grace said, pulling Callie from her thoughts. “And hard.”

“Then, I’d better get moving.” Callie gulped down her last bite and drained the teacup.

Without fanfare, she slipped on her coat and said goodbye. She needed to be on her way before she was snowbound. Time was fleeting, and so was her sanity.