Made For Marriage

Callie watched as the kids followed behind him. And again it stirred something inside her. An old longing. And it gave her a snapshot of a life she’d never have.

Ryan …

The longing turned into a pain—a piercing, incredible hurt that always took root behind her ribs when she thought about the beautiful baby boy she’d lost when he was just two days old.

I miss you Ryan … I miss holding you … I miss watching you grow up and become the person you could have been.

Kirra sensed her distraction and started prancing sideways at a trot. Callie got her quickly under control and eased her to a halt in the center of the arena. And she watched as Noah began talking with his daughter. Lily nodded, he shook his head. Lily said something, he replied. The conversation lasted for some minutes and the three younger Preston children stood quietly behind their father. Finally, Lily waved her arms about and stomped off toward the truck. He said something to the three kids and they sat on the soda crate. Then he headed through the gate and into the arena.

Callie dismounted and pulled the reins over Kirra’s head, collecting them in her left hand. She fought the ridiculous impulse to take off her safety hat and smooth out her hair or rub her hands down her breeches.

He stopped about two feet in front of her. “Hello,” he said.

Callie swallowed. “Hi.”

He went to say something but then stopped. He patted the horse instead. He had nice hands, she noticed. Tanned and strong looking. She quickly snapped herself out of her silly female fantasy. “I was going to call you,” she said. “You beat me to it.”

“I knew she’d be here.”

“You did? How?”

“Because you were the last thing we talked about last night. And I know Lily—when she gets her mind stuck on something, she can be impossible to deal with.”

Callie raised her brows. “Looks like you’re surrounded by impossible women.”

My God, am I flirting? That’s what it sounds like.

And he smiled. As though he liked it. “I could think of worse things.”

Everything around her suddenly felt hot—the air in her lungs, the sand beneath her boots. “Anyway—she didn’t do any harm while she was here.”

“She’s changed since her mother left.”

Not what he wanted to say, Callie was sure of it. It was too familiar, too personal, too everything. And Callie wanted to clamp her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to hear any more. She didn’t want to know him. She didn’t want to know more of him.

“No problem.” It was a pitiful attempt at sounding indifferent.

“She used to be … sweet. A real sweet kid. And then she changed almost overnight.”

Callie felt another surge of feeling for Lily. She knew all about change. She knew what grief and hurt could do to a person. “Is that the reason for the makeup and black clothes?”

He shrugged. “Something to hide behind, I guess. She still wants riding lessons.”

Callie clicked Kirra forward and began to walk from the arena. “Well, Janelle Evans is a good instructor.”

He stepped in beside her. “She’s asked for you.”

“She can’t … you can’t … I just …”

Something happened then. Her legs stopped moving. Her lungs stopped breathing as she turned and their eyes locked. For one extraordinary moment Callie knew that whatever she was feeling, he was feeling it, too. It was crazy, heady and blindingly powerful.

He spoke first. “Lily rarely asks for anything.”

Callie continued walking. “Which means?”

“Which means I’m inclined to do whatever I can to see that she gets what she wants.”

They got to the gate. Callie tied Kirra to the railing, took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I—”

“Callie,” he said “Please, reconsider.” He placed his hand on her arm. A light touch, but the electricity coursing between their skin could not be denied. He looked at his hand but didn’t remove it. Callie stood still, held in place by his touch, by the mere wisp of space that lay between them. “Lily needs you.” He paused, watching her. “And I … and I need you.”

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