The Secret Bliss of Calliope Ipswich (20 page)

“Calliope,” Evangeline called from nearby.

Calliope turned to face her sister, who was busy fitting Mamie and Effie Longfellow for their flower girl dresses.

“Yes?” Calliope asked as she strode to where her sister stood with Mamie Longfellow standing on a chair.

“What do you think about the neckline here?” Evangeline asked. She draped the pretty butter-yellow fabric that would soon be Mamie’s dress across Mamie from shoulder to shoulder. “I’m thinking just a wisp of a sleeve, with a lower neckline and a light swag of fabric across the front. What do you think?”

“Hmm
,” Calliope pondered as she studied Mamie. She glanced for a moment to Floyd Longfellow. But his attention was rapt by Evangeline, and Calliope did wonder if maybe Mr. Longfellow agreed to allow his girls to participate in the wedding simply because he was charmed by Evie. “I like that,” Calliope concluded at last. “I think you’re right. It’ll give the girls a somewhat angelic appearance.” She laughed as Evangeline nodded. “And you needn’t ask me my opinion on things like this, Evie. You’re the best seamstress in the family!”

“No
, I’m not,” Evangeline countered. “And I want to be sure we capture the vision in your mind.”

“Well, these dresses will be lovely on the girls,” Calliope said.
Taking little Effie’s hand in her own—for Effie stood looking rather neglected as Mamie was being fitted—Calliope knelt down in front of her and said, “You and Mamie will be just so adorable and lovely, Effie! And we’ll make sure you have some lovely flowers to carry along with you.”

Effie smiled at Calliope, grateful for the attention.

“Miss Evangeline will fit your dress just after she’s finished fitting Mamie’s, all right?” Calliope asked the toddler.

“Yes, ma’am,” Effie answered.

Calliope stood once more, turning to Floyd Longfellow.
“Oh, thank you so much for letting the girls help us with the play, Mr. Longfellow. They’re just what we needed to make everything else so perfect.”

Mr. Longfellow, who looked just like an older version of his son, nodded to Calliope.
“Well, I just couldn’t make myself refuse your sister…bein’ that Evangeline asked so nicely and all.”

Calliope smiled at him
, for his eyes had fairly twinkled when he’d spoken of Evangeline.

“Well, thank you again,” Calliope told him. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy watching them at the performance.”

“Oh, Kizzy,” Calliope heard Dora Montrose exclaim, “that beadwork on the bodice of Shay’s dress is marvelous. How lovely!”

Kizzy smiled and said, “Thank you, Dora.
I’ve been workin’ on it for so long now that I can’t believe I’ve almost finished.”

“Shay’s dress is beautiful, Kizzy
,” Calliope exclaimed, moving to stand by her stepmother.

“Well, whether it’s for a play or in years to come the real event, I want my daughter’s weddin’ dress to be perfect for her,” Kizzy laughed.

Dora sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if Winnie will ever settle her mind on a young man and get married.” Lowering her voice so that only Kizzy and Calliope could hear, Dora added, “I’m afraid my daughter is a fickle fanny when it comes to young men. One day she swears she’s in love with Dex Longfellow; the next she swears to be in love with Tate Chesterfield. Why, just yesterday, she’d determined that Rowdy Gates was the man she wanted to marry.” Dora sighed and shook her head.

Calliope felt nausea rise from her stomach all the way up into her throat.
It burned so sour that she couldn’t have begun to speak in that instant, even if she could’ve thought what to say.

Still, Kizzy soothed Calliope’s anxiety a bit when she said, “Somehow I see Winnie with someone like Tate more than I do Rowdy.”
Calliope felt the color drain from her face when Kizzy looked up to her then, inquiring, “Don’t you, Calliope?”

“Um
…y-yes,” Calliope stammered. “I think Tate and Winnie would make a lovely couple.”

Did Kizzy know?
Did she know that Calliope hoped to win Rowdy one day? Had Shay broken her promise and told her mother of Calliope’s secret bliss? But then Calliope remembered that Kizzy was a gypsy—more gypsy than even Shay—and Shay had guessed at it. Thus, it stood to reason that Kizzy had guessed at it as well.

“Warren Ackerman
, you behave yourself!” Mrs. Ackerman screeched, startling everyone.

“I just wanna practice on her a bit, Mama,”
Warren laughed.

Calliope and the others looked up to see
Warren chasing Shay around the inside of the Ackermans’ barn. He still wore his half-sewn swallowtail suit coat, and Shay was giggling with delight.

“You do
not
practice a weddin’ kiss, Warren!” Mrs. Ackerman scolded. “And get back here and let your sister finish fittin’ that coat proper!”

But
Warren had already caught up with Shay. As the little boy took hold of Shay’s shoulders, spinning her around to face him, Calliope giggled with delight when the boy planted a kiss right on her lips.

Shay blushed and pushed herself out of his grasp.
“I oughta slap you, Warren Ackerman!” Shay exclaimed—although it was obvious she was elated about Warren’s having kissed her. “And I bet you can’t catch me again,” Shay giggled, offering further proof to everyone in the barn that she was enchanted by Warren’s attention.

“I am so sorry, Kizzy,” Mrs. Ackerman apologized as she came to stand near Calliope.
“That boy just about runs me ragged most of the time. I hope you’re not too upset that he’s a bit sweet on your Shay.”

Kizzy smiled.
“Not at all, Ellen,” she assured her friend. “Lawson and I adore Warren! And I’ll venture to say my Shay does too. And after all, there’s no harm in a little game of kiss-and-chase at their age.”

Calliope smiled
, glad that both Kizzy and Mrs. Ackerman understood children’s infatuations. She thought back on something Amoretta had told her just after she and Brake were married. Amoretta had told Calliope that Brake had once chased Amoretta into Mr. Ackerman’s hayfield last autumn. Naturally, Amoretta had swiped Brake’s hat from his head and had run as fast as she could for the hayfield. But once Brake had caught her—and Amoretta sorely wanted him to catch her—he’d pushed her into the belly of a haystack and kissed her something fierce! Amoretta had confessed that kissing Brake in the haystack that evening had been one of the most marvelous experiences she had ever had.

Calliope sighed
, wishing Rowdy Gates would chase her into a haystack and kiss her—wishing Rowdy Gates would chase her anywhere and kiss her.

“Seems to me kiss
-and-chase would be fun at any age,” Calliope said. As everyone looked at her with wide, wondering eyes, she gasped. “Oh dear! Did I say that out loud?”

“You certainly did,” Dora Montrose laughed.
“And I’ll say this: I’ll confirm that kiss-and-chase
is
fun at any age.” She continued to smile. “To this very day, I just love it when my Dennison chases me around the kitchen table and then catches me in his arms and kisses me.”

“Oh, me too!” Kizzy agreed.

Ellen Ackerman quirked one eyebrow and smiled. “Well, how delicious is it to stand here and imagine both the sheriff and the county judge playin’ at kiss-and-chase?” she asked.

“Very fun, if I do say so myself,” Dora answered.

Everyone laughed then, and Calliope sighed with satisfaction. She knew a Tom Thumb wedding would bring the folks in Meadowlark Lake closer together. And the proof sat all around her in the Ackermans’ barn.

The last lamp was lit for the night. Most nights he rode right home to an empty house, a bland supper, and retiring to bed early. But this night—this night Rowdy was already so tired he just sat right down under the last street lamp near the Ipswich house. He wasn’t ready to leave town for the isolation of his own house.

H
e was wound up about the fact that Arness might turn up again. But he’d checked the diner and the livery when he’d lit the lamps and found no chestnut and white appaloosa—and no Arness.

The other reason Rowdy didn’t want to hurry home was a feeling that had begun to grow in his chest—an emotion. He was beginning to become attached to the folks in
Meadowlark Lake. He’d found, of recent, that he was starting to feel amused in the company of the men at the mill. He liked talking to Sheriff Montrose and Judge Ipswich whenever his path crossed theirs. He enjoyed discussing horses with Lou Smith and hearing Mrs. Perry go on and on and on about the commodities she’d managed to procure for the general store—whether or not Mr. Perry agreed that they were necessary.

Rowdy was beginning to realize that more than just his stiff knee had healed over the past few months
; his soul had begun to heal as well. Glancing back to the Ipswich house, standing in the dark with bright-lit windows and beckoning like the essence of heaven, Rowdy admitted to himself that Calliope Ipswich had a hand in his healing.

The moment Judge Ipswich had moved his family to town, Rowdy had started to feel like maybe life wasn’t so miserable and hopeless after all. Oh, the other
Ipswich girls were pretty too, but there was something different about Calliope. It was as if a bright, radiant ray of sunshine had been sifted into her eyes—into her heart and soul. Her eyes were the color of the noonday sky but sparkled like stars had fallen into them.

Furthermore, there was a sincerity about Calliope that Rowdy had learned was a rare thing in a person. She meant it when she smiled and said she was happy
; she meant it when she smiled at
him
.

“Are you just plum tuckered out tonight, Mr. Gates?”

Rowdy startled a bit at the sound of Shay Ipswich’s young voice.

He looked to his right to see her standing the
re, holding onto the handle of her cat’s leash. The old marmalade cat sat down on its haunches, blinking slowly as if being led on a leash to a streetlamp at night were the most normal thing in all the world for a feline.

He grinned at Shay, noting the sincere compassion in her expression.

“I am plum tuckered, darlin’,” he admitted. “And what are you and Molly doin’ out so late?”

Shay sighed and glanced to her cat. “Well, Molly saw you sittin’ out here all alone, and she figured we best come out and check up on you…you know, make sure you’re feelin’ all right and things.”

Rowdy’s smile broadened. “Well, thank you, Molly, for your kind concern,” he said, addressing the cat. The cat simply looked at him and produced another slow blink.

“I got my first kiss today, Mr. Gates,” Shay announced in a whisper.

“You did?” Rowdy exclaimed as the girl blushed and smiled with joy.

“Mm hmm,” she affirmed. “Warren Ackerman chased me around in his daddy’s barn
’til he caught me! Then he kissed me…right on the lips!”

“And did you like it?” Rowdy chuckled. “Is Warren Ackerman a good kisser?”

Shay shrugged, still blushing—still smiling. “Well, I don’t have anything to compare it with…but I liked the way he kissed me, so I guess so.”

Rowdy nodded. “Then I’d say ol’
Warren’s a good kisser all right.”

Shay
Ipswich cocked her head to one side. “Are
you
a good kisser, Mr. Gates?”

Rowdy blushed a bit. He rubbed the whiskers on his chin and answered, “I ain’t never had any complaints…so I guess I am.”

“Hmm,” Shay hummed. “Well, it just so happens that my sister Calliope is about to go stargazin’ tonight out in the grassy space behind our house. Maybe you could sorta wander on out there and look at the stars with her. Then maybe you could give her a kiss like Warren gived me today. And then maybe Calliope can tell you for sure that you’re a good kisser.”

Rowdy took off his ha
t and raked a hand through his hair. He chuckled then and asked, “What kind of mischief are you up to exactly, Miss Shay Ipswich?”

Shay smiled. “I’m up to usin’ my gypsy magic to make people’s dreams come true, Mr. Gates. That’s all,” she answered plainly.

“Makin’ people’s dreams come true, huh?” Rowdy teased.

But Shay was undaunted. “Go on, Mr. Gates,” she told him. “Go on out there and look at the stars with Calliope.” She smiled at him, winked,
and then turned and started to walk away. “Come on, Molly. We best be gettin’ inside before Mama starts to worry about us.”

Rowdy shook his head as mingled disbelie
f and curiosity rattled around in his head. The little Ipswich girl sure was something. Surely she didn’t expect him to just saunter out to the grassy expanse behind the Ipswich home, scoop Calliope Ipswich up in his arms, and get to sparking with her.

He sighed as he leaned back against the lamppost once more. But as his thoughts immediately turned to the possible impending trouble with Arness, an interesting idea washed over him.

“Why not?” he mumbled to himself. “If Arness tries to kill me again, he might just do it this time. So why not take a chance on a little girl’s fancy?”