Winnie Griggs - The Hand-Me-Down Family

She focused again on Leland’s brother. He seemed to have nothing in common at the moment with the compassionate, generous man she’d come to know through years of correspondence.

Not the praying kind indeed!

Time to try another tack. “Mr. Tyler, I find myself quite weary from the day’s events, and would prefer not to stand here arguing with you. I’d like to meet Annabeth and then find a place to refresh myself, if you don’t mind.”

His eyes narrowed and she wondered for a minute if he would continue to argue despite her request. But he gave a quick nod. “Of course. This way.”

As he offered his arm he gave her a warning look. “Just don’t think this means I’ve changed my thinking. You’re welcome to stick around if you’ve a mind to. But the care of the children—all of the children—is my responsibility.”

We’ll just see about that. After the briefest of hesitations, she placed her hand on his arm, giving him her sweetest smile. “I must admit, your concern for the well-being of the children does do you credit, Mr. Tyler.”

Jack escorted his suspiciously compliant sister-in-law to Mrs. Mayweather’s home. The woman wasn’t fooling him with that winsome smile and those sugar-coated words of hers. He knew good and well she hadn’t given up the battle yet.

Well, she could scheme and plot all she wanted. It didn’t change his mind one jot about his duty to Annabeth, Simon and Emma.

But as they drew closer to Mrs. Mayweather’s home, his thoughts turned from Lanny’s widow to the three children.

What was he going to say to them? He was their closest living kin, but he’d never laid eyes on them before—not since Nell’s oldest was an infant, anyway—and they certainly didn’t know him.

How much had their parents told them about him? Or had the subject of their absent Uncle Jack ever even come up?

How would they react when they met him? How would he deal with their grief when he was still trying to absorb the loss himself?

His free hand clenched and unclenched. How could this woman walking beside him talk about looking to God for guidance when that same God allowed such a thing to happen in the first place? If the Almighty had wanted to take another Tyler, it should have been him. His passing, unlike that of his brother and sister, wouldn’t have left a hole in anyone’s life.

His face must have betrayed some of what he was thinking because Callie cast a questioning glance his way. Luckily, they had finally reached Mrs. Mayweather’s front gate.

“Here we are,” he said, cutting off any comment she might have made. He opened the gate without meeting her gaze and gestured for her to precede him up the flagstone walkway.

Before they’d made it halfway to the porch, a tall, spare woman stepped out to greet them.

Age had definitely not interfered with Mrs. Mayweather’s commanding presence. From the top of her tightly wound, steel gray bun to the hem of her no-frills, severely cut skirt, she still had that force-to-be-reckoned-with schoolmarm look that could quiet a classroom full of rowdy children with just a raised brow.

“Hello, Jackson. It’s good to see you back in Sweetgum again. My condolences for your loss.”

Facing her, Jack felt like a ten-year-old schoolboy again. “Thank you, ma’am.” He quickly turned to Callie. “This is—” He paused for the merest fraction of a second and she immediately stepped forward.

“Callista Tyler, ma’am. I am—was—married to Leland Tyler.”

Mrs. Mayweather nodded. “Yes. Virgil stopped by to explain the situation. Most astounding.” She paused a minute. “I must say, you seem to be holding up remarkably well under what must have been a terrible shock.”

“It’s kind of you to say so, ma’am.” She gave her bonnet a tug. “I’m afraid the full impact of the situation hasn’t entirely sunk in yet.”

“Understandable.” Mrs. Mayweather tilted her head thoughtfully. “Callista. Unusual name, that. You wouldn’t by any chance be Julia’s friend Callie.”

“Why, yes.” Her smile warmed and some of the tension eased from her stance. “It seems my fame precedes me.”

“Well then, that explains quite a bit.” The schoolteacher nodded in satisfaction as if she’d solved a puzzle of some sort. “Julia always spoke of you in such glowing terms. It’s no wonder Leland turned to you for this special kind of help after she passed on.”

She waved toward the far end of the porch. “By the way, since we weren’t certain how things would sort themselves out, I instructed Virgil to deposit your baggage here for the time being.”

“Why, thank you, I—” The widow seemed a bit overwhelmed by their hostess.

Jack knew the feeling. He stepped forward. “Where are the children?”

“They’re upstairs, digging through an old trunk of mine. I’ll call them down shortly, but I thought it would be best if we had a chat first.”

“Of course.” Jack felt a guilty surge of relief at being able to put off the moment of truth a little longer.

Mrs. Mayweather stepped aside. “Now come on in to the parlor. You both look as if you could do with a cool glass of lemonade, and we have matters to discuss.”

Callie nodded. “Thank you. That sounds lovely.”

Jack removed his hat and followed the ladies inside.

“You may set your hat on the hall table there, Jackson.” She turned to Callie. “Feel free to set your bonnet and handbag there as well.”

He tensed in sympathy. What would Callie do? How would she handle this?

Once again, she surprised him. Though she moved with a sort of deliberate slowness, her initial hesitation was so brief he doubted Mrs. Mayweather noted it.

With steady hands, she loosened the strings to her bonnet and let it fall behind her head.

Mrs. Mayweather studied her for a minute. “A birthmark, I presume?” At Callie’s nod, she pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Yes, indeed. I’m beginning to understand why Julia had such respect and admiration for you.”

Callie was startled by the woman’s words and didn’t know how to respond, so she said nothing. She pulled her bonnet back up, wondering exactly how much Julia had said about her and to whom.

Mrs. Mayweather raised a hand to stop her. “No need to do that on my account.”

Callie smiled, but firmly tied her ribbons. “Thank you, but I’d rather that not be the first view the children have of me.”

“As you wish.” A slight nod accompanied the words. “But I think you would be surprised by how accepting children can be.”

A few moments later, they were seated in the parlor and Mrs. Mayweather was pouring glasses of lemonade.

“I know a man of the world such as yourself would probably prefer something stronger,” she said as Jack reached for his, “but I’m afraid you will have to make do with this for now.”

“This will do just fine, thank you.” He took a long drink, then set the glass down. “So how are the young’uns doing?”

Mrs. Mayweather’s face softened in concern and Callie saw a whole new side of her.

“About as one would expect. They went through such a horrid experience. At least they didn’t have to witness the fire firsthand.”

Callie sent up a silent prayer of thanksgiving. She’d worried…

“As it happens, Simon had taken Emma and Annabeth down to the livery,” Mrs. Mayweather continued briskly. “He wanted to show them a new foal that had been born the day before. When they heard the alarm, they headed back to the café. Luckily, the O’Connor sisters spotted them and had sense enough to keep them from going anywhere near the fire.”

Callie saw past the woman’s businesslike tone. “And so you took them in.”

Mrs. Mayweather nodded. “I had the room and the time to see to them, since school had let out for summer the week before.”