The Secret Bliss of Calliope Ipswich (22 page)

They didn’t speak as they walked toward the house. Calliope felt that, like her, Rowdy was enjoying the ambiance of the night—the crickets’ soft song, the low croaking of frogs in the distance. A soft breeze caressed the blades of grass at their feet
, and the scent of someone’s hearth fire lent comfort to the air.

All too soon, they’d reached the back porch of the
Ipswich home.

“Well, here you go,” Rowdy said as he placed the lantern and blanket on the back porch.

Calliope felt as if her heart had suddenly dropped into the bottom of her stomach. She didn’t want to part company with Rowdy—not in that moment—not ever!

“Thank you for looking at the stars with me,” she ventured. “I know you probably had much more important things you needed to do at home this evening.”

“Nope.”

“Well, thank you all the same,” Calliope said, smiling.

He was so handsome—sinfully handsome! And he was kind—so kind—and so strong. Yet all at once it seemed he looked a little downhearted. Calliope’s instinct was always to try and cheer anyone who might not be feeling the happiest they’d ever felt. And Rowdy Gates certainly qualified as someone she didn’t want to see feeling less than cheerful.

Thus, she rambled on
. “I still don’t feel like I’ll ever be able to repay you for saving me at the millpond. Peach pie just doesn’t seem to go far enough. And you were so kind to make the paper boats and spend the time down at the stream with Shay and me. I know it meant a lot to her. So…thank you, again.”

Raising herself on her tiptoes and placing her hands on Rowdy’s shoulders to steady herself, Calliope placed a soft, lingering kiss on the man’s cheek—the way she’d done the day she and Shay had taken the pie to him.

Again she relished the feel of his warm skin and prickly whiskers against her lips. “Thank you,” she whispered into his ear.

She promised herself she would always remember the way he smelled in that instant—of meadow grass and leather
, of having lingered in the evening air stargazing with her. She inhaled the masculine aroma of his face once more, not wanting to give him up.

And then
, the very moment she meant to release him, Calliope’s breath caught in her chest as she heard Rowdy mumble, “You’re welcome, Miss Calliope”—as she felt his lips press to her cheek in a tender kiss in return.

“I suppose if that little Ackerman boy can gather up the gumption to kiss little Shay
,” he began in a lowered voice, “I oughta be able to gather up enough to give you a proper ‘you’re welcome,’ shouldn’t I?”

Calliope blushed with the anticipation of paradise—with the thrill of possibility. Did he mean to kiss her again? To bless her cheek with another, perhaps more lingering, caress of his lips?

“Why would you need to gather up some gumption, Mr. Gates?” she whispered, although bashfully. “It’s not like I wouldn’t be accepting of…of a ‘you’re welcome’ from you.”

Was he understanding her correctly? Was she implying to him that she’d actually allow him to kiss her? By the glistening anticipation in her eyes, Rowdy knew that she would—that she wanted him to.

Maybe little Shay Ipswich really was as observant as she claimed to be. Of course, what girl wouldn’t be a little sweet on a man who’d jumped into a millpond with her? Either way, Rowdy’s mouth was watering for wanting to kiss Calliope so badly. And so he decided to risk it. After all, what did he have to lose? Arness might well kill him in the near future, so why not have a taste of heaven before he got there?

Calliope was again rendered breathless as Rowdy unexpectedly reached out, taking her face between his warm, strong hands.

“You’re welcome, Miss Calliope,” he said in a lowered voice.

He kissed her then
; Rowdy Gates kissed her! Not on the cheek but square on the lips. Yet it was over too soon, and Calliope felt not only disappointment but also extreme inadequacy.

“But I wasn’t ready!” she exclaimed in a whisper.

Rowdy grinned. “You weren’t ready?”

“No
, I wasn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “And what if…what if that was my only chance? My only chance to prove to you that…what if something happens, and you never—?”

“Shhh,” Rowdy shushed.

“But…but…” she stammered.

“Shhh,” he shushed again. Still grinning her, he asked, “Do you think you’re ready now?”

Calliope exhaled with relief and nodded. “Yes. At least…I think I am. But what if I’m not, and you—?”

“Shhh,” Rowdy shushed. “A body can’t always be ready for everything, Calliope. Sometimes you just gotta jump right in when the opportunity presents itself.”

Rowdy kissed her again then—pressed his mouth to her lips, sending her mind spinning, her skin rippling with goose bumps, and causing her limbs to feel limp as a dishcloth. Somehow Calliope managed to return his kiss, and it prompted him to kiss her again—and again.

They were kissing—standing under the starry, moonlit sky, kissing. Rowdy’s kiss was consuming in its proficiency—in the way it made Calliope feel powerful and weak in the same moment. She hadn’t even realized it when it happened—when the transition from a soft, purely simple kiss to that of a more fervent exchange occurred. She hadn’t even realized she knew how to respond to such a kiss as Rowdy was applying to her mouth—warm, moist, demanding
, and intensely passionate.

Somehow Calliope found herself bound in his strong arms—held securely against his firm, warm body. Somehow her arms had encircled his neck
, her fingers having woven themselves through his hair at the back of his head.

Rowdy eased their affectionate exchange. With a heavy sigh, he released Calliope
, and she sensed that he wanted her to step back from him.

“I best be gettin’ on home,” he said. His eyes were fixed on hers and filled with desire.

“Tomorrow always comes faster than you think it will,” Calliope whispered. She grinned a little, hoping he would smile back at her—reassure her that he still liked her after kissing her.

Rowdy did smile at her
, and Calliope began to breathe more easily.

“Yes
, it does,” he confirmed. He started to turn but paused, looking back at her. “Is it still all right with you if I ask your daddy if I can accompany you to your little sister’s weddin’?”

“Of course it is!” Calliope softly exclaimed.

He nodded, bending the brim of his hat and saying, “Good night then, Miss Calliope Ipswich.”

“Good night, Mr. Rowdy Gates,” she said. And she watched him walk away until he’d rounded the corner of the house and she couldn’t see him anymore.

When Calliope entered the kitchen the next morning, she was still enjoying the lingering euphoria of Rowdy Gates’s kisses. She had spent most of her sleepless night convincing herself that it really
had
happened—that Rowdy had gazed up at the stars with her, walked her back to the house, and then kissed her. Yet she knew it hadn’t been a dream. The way her lips tingled at the memory—the way her mouth warmed and her heart raced as she thought of it—if her mind still doubted she lived it for certain, her physical senses proved it.

“Good mornin’, Calliope,” Shay greeted.

“Good morning, Shay Shay,” Calliope said, smiling at her little sister as she took her seat at the breakfast table.

“How were the stars last night?” Shay asked.

Calliope’s eyes narrowed with suspicion as she looked to Shay. “Lovely as always. Why do you ask?” Calliope answered.

Shay shrugged. “I just thought maybe they were lovelier than usual last night, that’s all.”

Evangeline startled everyone when she burst into the kitchen by way of the back porch door.

“I’ve just been to the general store to check our post—” Evangeline began.

“And you got another letter from Jennie?” Shay interrupted.

“Well, no,” Evangeline continued. “But this parcel came from Amoretta!” she squealed with delight, producing the brown parcel she’d been holding behind her back.

“The invitations!” Calliope and Kizzy exclaimed in unison.

“Amoretta has finished them already?” Calliope asked as Evangeline set the parcel on the table and began to untie the twine that bound it.

“It would seem so,” Evangeline confirmed. “Of course, we want to make certain she hasn’t forgotten anyone, so it’s very good that she’s sent them this quickly.”

“Very good indeed,” Kizzy agreed. “I would hate for anyone in town, or close around town, to be left out. We must make sure there’s an invitation for everyone—every family or singular person.”

“Yes,” Calliope said, nodding. She frowned a moment and looked up to Kizzy, asking, “Are we quite sure we have the most complete list of citizens? I worry so that we’ve missed someone.”

All the females in the room gasped, looking to Lawson in astonishment when he put his hand on the parcel to keep Evangeline from opening it.

“Before you girls plunge into all this wedding preparation, again,” he said, “I have something I’d like to share with you.”

Shay leaned close to Calliope and whispered, “Remember…pretend to be surprised.”

“What?” Calliope asked.

“Of course, Daddy,” Evangeline encouraged her father, however. “What is it?”

Kizzy’s scarlet blush tumbled Calliope’s memory back to the secret Shay had inadvertently revealed the day she and Shay had sailed frogs with Rowdy Gates.

She smiled as her father took Kizzy’s hand, winked at her, and then announced, “Well, come November we’ll be having a new addition to the family, my girls. Kizzy’s carrying a baby.” He smiled at Shay, cupping her chin in one strong hand as he said, “I’m afraid you won’t be the baby in the
Ipswich family for much longer, my angel.”

But Shay giggled, leapt from her chair, and ran to where her mother stood, holding a plate of breakfast ham. “Oh, Mama! You know I’ve been wanting a baby for so long!” she said, throwing her little arms around her mother’s waist. Turning to where Lawson sat, she hugged him about the neck and chirped, “And I don’t mind not bein’ the baby anymore, Daddy. It’s about time I grew up a little bit. After all, I
am
gettin’ married in a few weeks.”

Everyone laughed as Lawson’s strong arms enveloped his youngest daughter in a loving hug. “You may be getting married in a few weeks, my Shay,” Lawson said, kissing her cheek, “but you’ll always be my little girl. All right?”

“I know, Daddy,” Shay sighed.

Calliope felt her eyes brimming with tears of happiness. How wonderful it was that her father and Kizzy were going to have a baby. Babies always brought more joy and love into a home than even there existed in it before.

She looked to Evangeline to see that her eyes were filled with tears as well. And then an unspoken understanding passed between them, and they both hopped up out of their chairs, racing to Kizzy and flinging their arms around her.

“Oh, Kizzy!” Calliope exclaimed as tears spilled over her cheeks. “How wonderful it will be! A new baby to cuddle and love? You’re heaven-sent to us, Kizzy
. Heaven-sent!”

As Evangeline wept over the joyous announcement—as the family exchanged hugs of happiness, hope, and glorious anticipation of new life—Calliope thought of Rowdy. She thought of Rowdy—thought of his handsome face and delicious kiss—and she couldn’t keep from daydreaming of how wonderful it would be to one day hold a baby of her own in her arms—a baby that looked
like his or her father—a baby who looked like Rowdy.

*

“I’m thinkin’ we need to let the townfolks know, Judge,” Sheriff Dennison said. He shook his head with discouragement. “I sent a telegram out last night, down to Tombstone.”

Lawson knew what Dennison was going to say before he even said it. But he held his tongue anyway, hoping he was wrong.

But he wasn’t.

“Seems the Morrison brothers left
Tombstone about a month ago,” the sheriff explained. “They’ve been causin’ a bit of trouble here and there. Seems they can’t find a town that will put up with them.”

Lawson nodded. “They are looking for a place to hole up…as Rowdy feared,” he said.

“It would seem so,” the sheriff confirmed. “And it wouldn’t be right to leave folks ignorant of what might happen. Anyhow, if there’s a shootin’ or anything that erupts, I want folks to know what to do…who should shoot and who shouldn’t.”

“You’re a very wise man, Dennison,” Lawson said. “And I agree. When people are frightened and unprepared, that’s when the innocent are hurt…or killed. So what do you propose? A town meeting?”

“I’m thinkin’ we tell the men first,” Dennison answered. “We come up with a strategy, and then we tell the men, and they can prepare their families from there. I don’t want a town meetin’ where women are ruffled up into a panic over the safety of their children.”

“I understand…and I agree,” Lawson said. He thought of Kizzy and the baby growing inside of her—of little Shay and of Evangeline and Calliope. He even thought of poor Molly the marmalade cat, and his own protective nature suddenly outweighed his fear.