Winnie Griggs - The Hand-Me-Down Family

“Yes, ma’am.” Annabeth smiled. “He said we were lucky you were coming to stay with us, that you were a friend of Momma’s ever since she was my age. But it was supposed to be a secret so he could tell Aunt Nell and Uncle Jed first.” She gave Callie an anxious look. “I didn’t tell anyone, I promise.”

Callie touched the child’s cheek. “I know you didn’t, sweetie. Your daddy would be very proud of you. But how did you know I was the one?”

“Because of what daddy said about you. He told me you were very special because you have angel kisses on the side of your face.”

A lump formed in Callie’s throat. That’s what Julia used to say when they were little girls. It had always made her feel so special.

Annabeth stared deep into her eyes. “Do you think my daddy is up in heaven getting angel kisses, too?”

Callie pulled the child onto her lap. “Of course I do. And your mommy is right there with him. I imagine both of them are watching you and smiling at how brave you are.”

Annabeth gave a satisfied nod and then threw her arms around Callie in a tight embrace.

Callie buried her face in the child’s curls, feeling an immediate bond with her. The fierceness of her desire to cherish and protect Julia’s child was almost frightening.

Dear God, please don’t put this sweet child into my life just to separate us again. If it be Your will, help me make Lanny’s brother understand that I need to be here.

She glanced up to find Jack staring at her, frowning uncertainly. Surely he could see how right it was that she have some hand in the child’s upbringing, couldn’t he?

But Annabeth wasn’t the only child who needed reassurances here. Callie gave Julia’s daughter one last squeeze. Then she put her down and stood, looking at the other two children. “You must be Simon and Emma Carson. I’m a very good friend of your Aunt Julia, and I came here to live with Annabeth.”

Neither child said anything, but their gazes remained locked on the red splotch that marred Callie’s face.

Callie drifted closer, casually pulling her bonnet back in place and tying the ribbons as she did so. “Your Aunt Julia and I used to write to each other. Her letters were quite long and wonderful. She shared all kinds of things about this town and her favorite people here. And that included you two, of course.”

“It did?” Emma seemed more at ease now that Callie’s bonnet was back in place.

“What kind of things did she say about us?” Simon’s voice held a note of challenge.

“Well, I know you’re eleven years old, that you’re a good student, and that you’re also good at building things.”

Simon seemed surprised by her words, but she noticed his chest puffed out with pride a bit.

Callie turned to Emma. “And as for you, young lady, you are eight years old and your Aunt Julia thought you were a very fine artist. She said you were always drawing her the prettiest pictures. Her favorites were the ones with flowers and rainbows.”

“I like to draw,” Emma acknowledged. She finally met Callie’s gaze. “Why do you call it angel kisses?”

Callie was relieved the girl was comfortable enough to talk about it. As Mrs. Mayweather had said earlier, children were usually much more forthright in confronting the subject than adults.

“I was born with this mark,” she explained. “Sometimes, when your Aunt Julia and I were little girls, she would tell me that she thought it was there because just before God sent me down to be with my parents, one of his angels bent over and kissed me on the cheek.”

Emma studied Callie’s face, as if trying to see past the bonnet. “Does it hurt?”

“Not at all. It’s always been just a part of who I am.” Callie gently touched a spot near the corner of Emma’s mouth. “Just like this little mole right here is a part of you.”

“Oh.” Emma’s hand reached for the spot Callie had touched. “And like my friend Molly’s freckles?”

“That’s right. But I tell you what. I know it’s a little scary right at first. So why don’t I just keep this bonnet on for the time being, at least until we get to know each other better.”

Emma nodded. Then her brow furrowed. “What are we supposed to call you?”

Caught off guard, Callie glanced up at Jack. She had no real claim on Simon and Emma. But, then again, she had been married to their uncle. She turned back to Emma. “Why don’t you just call me Aunt Callie?”

“Aunt Callie.” Emma tried out the name, then nodded approval. “That’s nice.”

“That’s settled then.”

“So you will be living at the farm with us.” Annabeth made the pronouncement with all the confidence of a self-assured four-year-old.

Jack cleared his throat and Simon started to voice another protest.

But Mrs. Mayweather stepped in before either of them got very far. “Children.” With that one word, she claimed everyone’s attention. “Why don’t the three of you go outside and check on Cookie. Simon, there is a bone left over from yesterday’s supper on the kitchen counter that you may take to him.”

Once the children left the room, Jack turned to Mrs. May-weather. “I want to thank you again for taking them in until I could get here.” He rubbed the back of his neck again. “I suppose I should ask them to pack up their things so we can head on over to the farm.”

Callie sat up straighter. No! He was not going to sidestep her claim that easily. Those children needed her. “I don’t believe that is your decision to make, Mr. Tyler.”

He frowned. “We’ve already—”

She cut off his attempt to play the kin card again. “As your brother’s widow, I believe I should have some say as to who will be staying at the farm.”

“Are you saying you want to go out there yourself?”

“I don’t—”

Mrs. Mayweather held up a hand to halt their discussion. “It appears to me that the two of you have some things to work out in respect to the children’s future. After all, you only learned the full extent of the situation a few hours ago.”

“It seems pretty cut and dried to me,” Jack groused.

Mrs. Mayweather drew herself up. “Jackson Garret Tyler, I will thank you to mind your tone when you are in my home.”

Apparently it didn’t matter how old Jack was—he would always be a recalcitrant schoolboy to Mrs. Mayweather. Callie carefully swallowed a grin.

Jack mumbled an apology, chafing under Mrs. Mayweather’s obvious censure.

He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him today. One minute he was breaking out in a cold sweat at the thought of taking sole responsibility for the three kids, and the next he was ready to fight to the death against anyone who’d dare try to take that privilege from him.

Mrs. Mayweather smoothed her skirts and gave them both equally stern looks. “Now, you’ve had a long day, both physically and emotionally. This is probably not the best time for you to make any major decisions.”

Callie nodded. “I agree. It would be best if we spent a little more time seeking guidance in this matter.”

Jack bit back a retort. There she went with that “seeking guidance” talk again. Didn’t the woman know how to make a decision on her own? Or did she think her delaying tactics would give her some sort of advantage in their tug-of-war?

Mrs. Mayweather, however, didn’t give him an opportunity to voice his objections. “Quite sensible. I insist the children stay here with me another night or two, while you two get everything worked out. It would be criminal to uproot them again before there is some certainty as to where they will live and with whom.” She looked from Callie to Jack. “Are we agreed?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Callie’s response was quick and confident.