Renee Ryan - His Most Suitable Bride

“You are very persistent.”

She had no idea how persistent he could be when he wanted something. He wanted Callie’s friendship. More than he should.

More than was wise.

“What do you say?” Feeling more alive than he had in years, he reached out his hand. “Shall we be friends?”

She took his hand, her smile bolder than before and far too appealing. “I’d like nothing better than to forge a friendship with you...Reese.”

The way she said his name, low and challenging, filled his chest with dread.

What have I just done?

Chapter Five

Callie exited Reese’s office with purposeful strides. She could feel his gaze following her progress down the never-ending hallway that eventually spilled into the law firm’s reception area. Was he watching her departure with a smile on his face?

Or did he wear that thoughtful expression she found so appealing? She desperately wanted to glance over her shoulder to discover what was in his eyes.

She kept walking, ensuring each step was precisely placed on the floor, one foot in front of the other. Heel, toe. Heel, toe. No doubt she appeared in complete control of herself.

Not true.

Her emotions, though carefully contained, were in tatters.

Why had she agreed to Reese’s suggestion they become friends? It was true, she’d once wished to grow close to the man, perhaps even build something more than a friendship. But that had been before he’d asked Fanny to marry him.

Even if he hadn’t offered for her sister’s hand, Callie was still, well, Callie. A staid, boring, sensible woman who took no missteps, crossed no lines and certainly never befriended a man outside her own family.

Feeling confused—and so very much alone—she attempted to pray for discernment as she exited Bennett, Bennett and Brand law offices. A cool, gentle breeze caressed her face yet the words wouldn’t come, even in the privacy of her own mind. She hunched her shoulders forward and approached the waiting carriage.

“Ready to go, Miss Callie?”

“Yes, Horace.” She smiled at Mrs. Singletary’s coach driver. “I am more than ready to go home.”

Home. Where was home for her now? Mrs. Singletary’s massive house? The Mitchell family ranch?

Neither place called to her.

Another reason she felt so alone. Lord, where do I belong?

Heavyhearted, she climbed into the carriage. Once settled on the butter-soft calfskin seat, she rapped on the ceiling. The coach jerked into motion. Tightly coiled springs absorbed most of the dips and bumps along the twenty-minute journey across town. So smooth was the ride, in fact, that Callie relaxed her head against the plush squabs.

Her thoughts, however, continued to race.

Why—oh, why—had she reacted to Reese’s obvious attempt to bait her? She may be many things, but afraid? Rarely. And yet...

She was afraid now. Afraid of what came next. Afraid of what a friendship between her and Reese really meant, especially with regard to Fanny.

A sob worked its way up her throat. For an instant, just one beat of her heart, she wished her sister would stay away forever. In the most hidden part of Callie’s soul the truth rang loud.

She resented Fanny.

The girl had callously walked away from a good man, the best of them all. And now, that same man claimed he wanted to be Callie’s friend. Her friend.

No good would come from such an arrangement. Friendship often blossomed into something deeper. That was her greatest fear. Because, deep down, it was her greatest hope.

In fresh agony, she pressed her fingertips to her temples and squeezed her eyes closed. She knew the situation was hopeless—truly, she did—yet Callie yearned for something more. Something life-altering.

Something...she had no business wishing for herself.

The carriage drew to an abrupt halt, splintering the rest of her thoughts.

Thankful for the interruption, Callie gathered up the leather briefcase Reese had given her and exited the carriage.

Mrs. Singletary’s butler met her just inside the front entryway. Thick threads of silver encroached on the few strands of red left in his hair, but his broad, welcoming smile erased at least ten years from his heavily lined face.

“Mrs. Singletary is waiting for you in her office, Miss Callie.”

“Thank you, Winston.” She smiled in return. “I’ll head right up.”

Leather satchel pressed against her heart, she hurried through the cavernous foyer with its mile-high ceiling and expensive chandelier hanging from the center. The sound of her heels striking the imported marble reverberated off the richly decorated walls, where several oil paintings had been strategically placed for optimal effect.

Callie paused at the foot of the winding stairwell to study a portrait of Mrs. Singletary and her now-deceased husband. The two looked beyond happy, yet Callie felt a wave of sadness as she stared into their smiling faces. They’d had so little time together, barely fifteen years.

It should have been a lifetime.

Sighing, she mounted the stairs. At the second-floor landing, she turned left and worked her way through the labyrinth of corridors that led to the back of the house.

As the butler had indicated, she found Mrs. Singletary in her office. The widow sat in an overstuffed chair, her head bent over a book, Lady Macbeth spread out on her lap.

Neither the widow nor the cat noticed Callie’s arrival. She took the opportunity to glance around the room. Bold afternoon sunlight spread across the empty stone hearth. Bookshelves lined three of the other four walls. The scent of leather and old book bindings mingled with Mrs. Singletary’s perfume, a pleasant mix of lavender and roses and...

Callie was stalling, though she couldn’t think why.

Squaring her shoulders, she rapped lightly on the doorjamb to gain the widow’s attention.

Mrs. Singletary lifted her head. “Ah, there you are.” She closed her book and set it on the small, round table beside her. “I trust everything went according to plan.”

What an odd choice of words.

Had Mrs. Singletary sent her to Bennett, Bennett and Brand with a purpose other than business in mind?

That would certainly explain Reese’s initial confusion when she’d stepped into his office.

Then again...

He’d been buried in legal briefs prior to her arrival. He’d recovered quickly enough and had given Callie a stack of papers to deliver to her employer. Papers contained in the leather case she now held.

Papers his law clerk could have delivered, as was usually the case.

Realizing her steps had slowed to a halt Callie resumed moving through the room and addressed her suspicions directly. “I must say, Mr. Bennett appeared genuinely surprised to see me in his office this afternoon.”

The words had barely left her lips when her foot caught on the fringe of an area rug and she momentarily lost her balance. In her attempt to right herself, the satchel flew from her hands.

Callie rushed forward. Unfortunately, she picked up the briefcase at the wrong end and the contents spilled out.

“Oh, oh, no.” She dropped to her knees and began picking up the papers as quickly as possible. “I’m not usually so clumsy.”

“Not to worry, dear.” Mrs. Singletary set her cat on the ottoman in front of her chair and joined Callie on the floor. “These things happen.”

Together, they retrieved the strewn papers, placing them in a neat pile between them.

Lady Macbeth, evidently sensing a new game afoot, leaped on top of the stack and plopped her hindquarters down with regal feline arrogance.

The widow laughed. “Move aside, my lady.” She playfully poked the cat in her ribs. “You are in the way.”

The animal lowered to her belly, her challenging glint all but daring her mistress to protest.