“I’m sorry.” She offered a conciliatory smile. “I don’t believe either of us is thinking clearly right now. I’m certain we both have Annabeth’s best interests at heart, and that’s what counts. We just need to make certain we understand what those are.”
His expression didn’t soften a bit. “The best thing for her right now is to be with her family. And that’s me and her cousins.”
Callie took a deep breath and tried again. “Mr. Tyler, why don’t we call a truce for the moment. At least long enough to pray about it. I’m sure God will help us resolve this if we just look to Him for guidance.”
Her oh-so-stubborn brother-in-law didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gave her a peculiar look.
A prickly unease stole over her, engulfing her like a scratchy woolen cloak.
No. She must have misinterpreted his expression.
Leland and Julia had been such steadfast Christians. Surely Leland’s brother…
She forced her lips to form the question.
“You do believe in God, Mr. Tyler, don’t you?”
Chapter Five
Callie watched as Jack paused, rubbing the back of his neck. Then he gestured back the way they’d come. “My dad helped build that church and my mother was the organist there for years.”
She frowned. What his parents did or didn’t do had nothing to do with—
“It’s just, well, I’m not really the praying sort.”
The words shocked her. “I don’t understand.”
He shifted his weight. “Look, I don’t have anything against folks praying if they’ve a mind to. It’s just that I don’t believe in asking for handouts myself. I cotton more to the ‘God helps those who help themselves’ way of thinking.”
Callie blinked. Surely she’d misunderstood. “Mr. Tyler, asking for guidance and direction from our Heavenly Father is not the same as asking for a handout.” She saw the skepticism in his eyes and tried again. “Besides which, there is absolutely nothing wrong with humbling ourselves before the Almighty.”
He waved his hand as if to brush her words aside. “Ma’am, you just go right ahead and pray for guidance if that makes you feel better.” Then he folded his arms across his chest and his eyes turned flinty. “But I’m telling you right now, there’s nothing on earth—or in heaven, for that matter—that’s going to convince me to turn any member of my family over to a stranger, no matter how strong that stranger might think her claim is.”
Callie pursed her lips, not trusting herself to respond immediately. It wasn’t about just Annabeth now. All three youngsters deserved to have a proper Christian influence in their lives. It was what their parents would have wanted for them, and it was the right thing to do. Actually, it was the most important thing.
She might not be the best person to fill that role, but God could use even the most flawed vessel to do His work. She was more determined than ever to have a hand in raising these children.
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