Now her eyes felt hot. Callie blinked against the tears building.
“Will it do?” he asked, head cocked.
Callie could only nod, afraid her voice would betray her.
His smile deepened.
“You’ll probably want your own quilt on the bed,” he said, moving forward to tug at the covering. “Ma sewed this one for me. I can’t believe it made the journey to Vital Creek and back.”
“I can’t believe someone didn’t steal it from you,” Callie said, fighting a pang at the sight of the quilt being bundled up in his arms. “Vital Creek was mighty cold, even in the summer.”
He chuckled. “It was at that. I didn’t bathe for months.” He seemed to recollect himself, for pink tinged his high cheekbones. “If you’ll tell me what you want in here, I’ll leave you to settle in.”
Callie pointed through the door to the pack, rifle and quilts, and he carried them into the room and bowed out. She shut the door behind him. Swallowing, she glanced around again, then her eyes lit on the door latch. She raised a brow.
“No lock,” she told Mica. “Guess we’ll have to shove the chest over the door every night.”
Mica nodded.
Callie ventured to the bed and lay the baby down on it. Mica immediately righted herself, wiggling on the surface as if she loved the feel of her new bed. Was it really as soft as it looked? Callie bent, braced her hands on either side of Mica and pushed down. Mica positively bounced. Something squeaked.
Callie frowned at the noise, but Mica grunted, eyes on Callie and chin tipped as if asking to bounce again. Callie obliged her. Mica collapsed in a fit of giggles.
Callie was more interested in what had caused that squeak. She’d done her best not to share her bed with mice over the years, and she wasn’t about to start now. She bent and peered under the bed. Not even dust marred the plank surface. In the shadowed light, however, she could see what appeared to be a net of metal under the mattress, holding the bed in place.
She straightened. “Well! What do you know about that?”
Mica wiggled, asking to be bounced again.
Callie gave her one more, then set about unpacking. Ma’s quilt, worn as it was, didn’t look nearly so pretty on the iron bedstead, but at least it made the place feel a bit more like home. And who was she to complain? A real cookstove, a room all to herself and Mica and a bed with springs. It was more than she’d ever dreamed of.
There has to be a price.
She shook the thought away. Just because everything good had cost too much on the gold fields didn’t mean she had to pay here. So far, Levi had been good to his word. This was a great deal better than their claim.
Perhaps that was why, when her fingers brushed the smooth shell of her mother’s comb and the fabric of her dress at the bottom of the pack, she hesitated. It was the last dress Ma had owned, other than the one they’d buried her in. Callie had been saving it to cut up for Mica. Maybe there was a better use for it, for the time being.
Maybe it was time she thought about trying to fit in again.
* * *
As soon as Callie shut the bedroom door, Levi drew in a breath. She’d liked the room. He wasn’t sure why that pleased him so much. But he’d seen the tears come to her eyes, the way she’d gazed about as if awed by her surroundings. It seemed all she needed was a little peace and quiet. Surely he could give her that. He’d already convinced Beth to come back tomorrow. He could handle this.
Something thumped outside, followed by a knock at the door. Levi hurried to answer.
His brother John stood there, tall infant chair beside him. John was his closest brother in age, though he’d flourished under Drew’s leadership where Levi had challenged their older brother at every turn. Slightly shorter and stockier than Levi, with mahogany-colored hair and their mother’s green eyes, he had never looked happier since marrying a few months ago.
“Dottie thought you might need this,” he said, giving the chair a push. It rolled forward and bumped against the threshold.
“Is that Drew’s high chair?” Levi asked, eyeing it.
“It was,” John acknowledged. “He loaned it to Dottie for Peter, and I made a few improvements. But Peter’s big enough that he prefers to sit at the table with us now.”
The pride in his voice was unmistakable. Though the little boy was Dottie’s son, John had fully entered into the role of father, even before their marriage.
“I’m sure Callie will appreciate it,” Levi said, lifting the wheeled contraption into the house. He leaned closer to his brother. “Listen, John, would you tell the others to wait a few days before welcoming Callie and her family? They’re still accustoming themselves to the changes.”
John, always the peacemaker, nodded sagely. “Of course. If a book would help, I’d be happy to bring some from the library. Culpeper’s Complete Herbal and Robinson Crusoe for the boys, perhaps. The Courtship of Miles Standish for Miss Murphy. That was always Beth’s favorite.”
Courtship? “I’ll pass along your offer.”
With a nod, John strode off, whistling.
Levi shut the door. John was a hopeless romantic, devouring the adventure novels their father had left them. He’d recently finished building and equipping the community library he hoped to open after Christmas. But somehow, Levi didn’t think Callie would be interested in reading about someone else’s courtship. He could only hope it was his brother’s kind nature that had prompted him to suggest it, and not an attempt at matchmaking.
He stepped back into the room and wheeled the little chair over to the table. He could imagine Mica smiling from it. She smiled at everything.
Unlike Callie. Her smiles were so rare that they were like the sun coming out after the rain. What would it take to make her smile more often?
There was a perfunctory tap on the door before his brother James strolled in.
“I saw Lance and Percy from the store, so I thought I’d fetch them,” he announced, glancing around. “Where’s your new family?”
Levi hurried to intercept him before James could wander any farther into the house. “Getting settled and needing a little time to get used to things,” Levi told him.
“Ah.” James wiggled his brows. Though James was older, he resembled Levi the most, from his dark blond hair and deep blue eyes to his slender build and tall height. The main difference lay in their hair. Where James’s was straight and short, Levi’s was longer and curlier. That had always seemed odd to Levi. James was the tease, the jokester in the family. Somehow it seemed as if he should be the one with curly hair.
“Perhaps I should warn you,” he said now. “Rina would like to evaluate the boys so she knows where to place them in school.”
Levi glanced at the empty stairs, already concerned about the silence from the loft. “Give them a day or two.”
“I’d be happy to give them all the time in the world,” James assured him, “but I bow to my wife, who knows far more about educating young minds than I ever will.”
“I’ll speak to her,” Levi promised, taking his arm and attempting to escort him to the door.
“Do you have everything you need?” James asked, resisting and glancing about as if hoping to catch a glimpse of Callie and the boys. “What about a cradle for the baby? Dottie gave us ours back recently.”
“Tomorrow,” Levi said, pulling a little harder.
He thought he heard the squeak of James’s boots against the plank floor. “I could bring you something from the