The Secret Bliss of Calliope Ipswich (8 page)

Rowdy laughed but quickly quieted himself for fear of being found spying. Fortunately, the
Ipswich girls were giggling so loudly as they lay on their backs in the meadow grass that they hadn’t heard him.

He smiled as he continued to watch Calliope and her sisters. They continued to l
ie on their backs in the grass for quite some time, pointing up to clouds here and there, giggling and talking. As he watched them, he sketched, until he had a fairly good likeness of Calliope to keep with him.

At last Rowdy Gates shoved his sketchbook and charcoal back into his pocket and left. As he walked away, he heard the Ipswich girls
’ laughter again and smiled, glad he’d abandoned the mill in favor of the hilltop as a venue to have his midday meal—for heaven itself would have to agree that watching Calliope Ipswich prance around like a pony in the meadow was far favorable to sitting in the mill, listening while the other men discussed women, work, and worry.

“Calliope,” Rowdy mumbled out loud to himself. Even just speaking her name made him feel stronger somehow—more lighthearted.

*

“I thought Shay was trying to
kill
us out there in the meadow today,” Calliope teased as the Ipswich family sat enjoying light conversation in the parlor after supper that evening. “Ponies, ring-around-the-rosy, and then more ponies,” Calliope sighed. “I swear I’m worn out!”

“You are not, Calliope,” Shay argued with a giggle. The lovely little dark-haired angel hopped up into Calliope’s lap, threw her small arms around her big sister’s neck
, and hugged her. “You love playin’ ponies as much as I do, and you know it.”

Calliope smiled and admitted, “Oh, you know me too well,” Calliope said, winking at the others as she continued to hug her little sister.

“Well, I for one will sleep soundly tonight,” Evangeline said. She covered her mouth as a revealing yawn escaped her.

Lawson chuckled. “I guess you older girls don’t have the fortitude you used to when it comes to playing ponies, hm?” he teased.

“Shay,” Kizzy began, “you should be very grateful and flattered that Evie and Calliope have chosen you to play the part of the bride in the Tom Thumb wedding. I’m not sure it was necessary to wear them clean through today.”

“Oh, I
am
excited about bein’ the bride, Mama,” Shay explained. “It’s havin’ to kiss Warren Ackerman, him bein’ the groom and all. That’s why Evie and Calliope were in my clutches today!” Shay poised her hands as if they were claws and, employing her best witch’s cackle, added, “Wah ha ha ha ha ha!”

Everyone guffawed
, entirely amused by Shay’s dramatics.

When the laughter had settled, however, Lawson offered, “But
, Shay Ipswich, I thought you’d be tickled about being kissed by Warren Ackerman.”

Shay gasped, exclaiming, “Daddy! What a thing to say! Me? Be glad that I have to kiss
Warren in the play?” Shay’s face was as red as a radish, but Calliope bit her lip to keep from giggling. “Why, I can’t believe you would say such a thing, Daddy! Warren Ackerman? For Pete’s sake, Daddy!”

“Well, forgive me then, angel,” Lawson said, trying his best not to grin with lingering amusement. “Come give me a hug so that I’ll know I’m forgiven.”

Shay hopped off Calliope’s lap, folded her arms determinedly across her small chest, and asked, “Promise not to tease me about havin’ to kiss Warren Ackerman when we get married, Daddy?”

“Of course, baby,” Lawson agreed.

Shay smiled and threw herself into her father’s waiting embrace. “I love you, Daddy,” she whispered against his handsome, whiskery face.

“I love you too, my angel,” Lawson whispered in return.

Everyone in the room smiled, and Calliope sighed with pleasure. They were such a happy family, so content in one another’s company. It was still strange that Amoretta and Brake lived in a different town, that they weren’t with them every day anymore. Yet Calliope knew how blissful Amoretta was in the arms of Brake McClendon, and it seemed at times that the Ipswich family could almost feel Amoretta and Brake’s love lingering in the parlor with them, even if they weren’t actually there.

“Here comes Rowdy Gates,” Evangeline whispered.

Calliope looked to see Evangeline looking over her shoulder and out the parlor window behind the sofa on which they sat.

Evangeline shook her head. “I admire that man’s tenacity,” she sighed. “Every night he goes along lighting the lamps
, and every morning he turns them out before heading to the mill. You’d think it would wear him thin, don’t you? Never having an evening or morning to relax?”

“He’s one of the most steadfast men I’ve ever known,” Lawson commented.

Shay dashed back over to the sofa, hopped up between Calliope and Evangeline, and stared out the window.

“With all this nonsense about Warren Ackerman, I almost missed wavin’ to Mr. Gates!” she exclaimed.

Calliope’s pretty brows puckered. “What do you mean, honey?” she asked.

Shay shrugged and explained, “Ever since I asked him about his limpin’ last week
, I’ve been waitin’ at the window here to wave to him every night when he lights the lamps in front of our house.”

Calliope smiled, instantly delighted. “You have?” she asked in unison with everyone else.

“Yep!” Shay answered. “I figure it’s the least I can do—you know, bein’ that he lights our lamps every single night for all eternity and such. I figure he at least deserves a smile and a wave.”

“Why yes
, he does,” Evangeline agreed.

“
Indeed
he does!” Calliope added. Turning around to kneel on the sofa and gaze out the window in mimicking Shay, she giggled. In truth, she’d watched for Rowdy Gates each evening as often as she could—ever since the family had arrived in Meadowlark Lake. She watched for him each morning as well. But she’d never told a soul. She’d always wished she’d had the nerve to wave to him once in a while, smile at him, and let him know she appreciated his efforts in tending to the gaslights of the town’s main street. Thus, she was soothed to know that at least Shay had taken to giving him some well-deserved acknowledgement.

“He’s coming closer!” Shay announced.

Evangeline turned to kneel on the sofa and stare out the window as well. And when Rowdy Gates had lit the lamp to the left of their home—when he glanced up a moment to the parlor window—Calliope and Evangeline joined Shay in tossing a grateful wave to him.

He looked a bit astonished at first, and Calliope knew it must be a strange sight indeed—to look up expecting to find a little girl waving and instead see three smiling faces staring out into the dusk and waving.

But in the next moment, Rowdy Gates grinned, tugged at the brim of his hat in thanks, and moved along to the next lamp.

“See?” Shay said proudly. “He always waves to me or tips his hat at me. I think he likes that I watch for him.”

“I’m sure that he does,” Kizzy agreed.

“How sweet you are, Shay Shay!” Calliope exclaimed, hugging her little sister then. “To think of Rowdy Gates ever
y night that way—you really are our little angel.” Calliope hugged Shay and then immediately gasped. “Evie,” she said, “Shay should have flowers woven through her hair for the wedding! Don’t you think? Oh, how lovely would that be?”

Evangeline smiled and enthusiastically agreed, “Yes
, that would be perfect! Yellow roses, some lilac blossoms…maybe a bit of lavender.”

Calliope giggled, took Shay’s hand
, and pulled her to stand with her. “Come on, Shay. Let’s go play with putting your hair up a bit so Evie and I can imagine how the flowers will fit.”

“Yes, let’s
,” Shay giggled with delight. “Warren Ackerman won’t mind kissin’ me at all if I have flowers in my hair!”

“Exactly!” Calliope said.

The girls were gone then
, leaving Lawson’s head spinning. “Now how can those girls go from waving out the window at Rowdy one moment to planning more fluff where this Tom Thumb wedding is concerned the next?” he asked his beautiful young wife. “They wear me out sometimes.”

Kizzy Ipswich smiled, studied her handsome husband a moment,
and then asked, “You’re teasin’ me, right, Lawson?” she asked. “You…you
do
know why the subject went from Rowdy Gates to this weddin’ so quickly, don’t you?”

Lawson leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “Well
, probably because the girls can’t keep a single thought in their brains for more than a second or two at a time, I would guess.”

Kizzy giggled
and hopped up from her chair, planting herself in her husband’s lap. “Oh, Lawson, you idiot. That’s one thing I love so much about you!”

“What’s that?” Lawson asked as his arms encircled her waist.

“That the most amazin’, most obvious things can be goin’ on right under your nose, and you aren’t any the wiser,” Kizzy answered, giggling.

Lawson chuckled. “Well, the only thing I see right under my nose at this moment is the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth.”

Kizzy blushed, for she recognized the expression—the smolder of desire—deepening in her husband’s eyes. “Is that so?” she asked.

“Yes,
ma’am,” Lawson mumbled.

As her strong, handsome, skilled lover pulled her into his embrace, ravaging her mouth with a loving and wanton kiss that caused goose
pimples to erupt over the entire surface of her body, Kizzy decided she’d keep the knowledge of why Rowdy Gates’s appearance had spurred Calliope to thinking of the Tom Thumb wedding to herself for a while. Lawson would catch on eventually, one way or the other. But for that moment, Kizzy just wanted to kiss him—to be kissed by him—exactly the way she knew Calliope dreamt of being kissed by Rowdy Gates.

“I promised Evangeline I would stop by and check the post, Mrs. Perry,” Calliope explained. “You know how impatient she is in waiting for correspondence from her friend Jennie.”

“Oh my, yes!” Mrs. Perry exclaimed with a quick burst of laughter. “Why, you’d think the fate of the entire world depended on Evangeline gettin’ her letter from
Colorado, wouldn’t you?”

Calliope giggled and nodded her agreement with the sweet proprietress of the
Meadowlark Lake general store and post office, Sophia Perry. Mrs. Perry was a jolly little lady, with hair the color of salt and cinnamon stirred together and a little round face, perfectly deep-wrinkled from a lifetime of smiling. Calliope liked Mrs. Perry and her husband, Maurice Perry. They were always happy, it seemed, and never uttered an unkind word about anything or anyone. To Mr. and Mrs. Perry, life was simply something amusing.

“And glory be
, here it is!” Mrs. Perry declared as she removed a letter from a wooden box she had been using to sort the post.

“What’s all the ruckus back here?” Mr. Perry asked as he entered the small nook of the
general store that served as the post office. “It sounds like a bunch of geese just flew in,” he teased.

“Oh, Maurice
, it does not,” Mrs. Perry laughed as Mr. Perry kissed her on one cheek.

Mr. Perry was round and plump. He had snow-white hair and a che
rry-red nose that always gave Calliope reason to wonder if the man indulged a little too often in drinking spirits or if he were simply St. Nicholas hiding out in Meadowlark Lake until Christmas Eve arrived.

“Ahhh,” Mr. Perry said as he saw Calliope. “It seems another one of them letters from up in
Colorado has arrived for your sister, is that it, Miss Ipswich?”

Calliope smiled and nodded. “It would seem so,” she answered. “Evangeline and her friend Jennie have recently renewed their friendship. I’m so glad
, for they were very close when they were little girls.”

“Yes
, Evangeline has mentioned that she and Jennie were nearly inseparable before…before…” Mrs. Perry stammered.

Knowing the kindhearted woman was uncomfortable and feeling awkward, Calliope finished, “Before our mother and baby brother died, yes.” Calliope sighed. “I was still very little
, but I can remember how Evangeline and Jennie would find themselves so amused over the tiniest thing that they’d burst into giggles that seemed to me to last for hours.” She smiled as Mrs. Perry handed the letter to her. “I’m glad they’re corresponding now.”

Snapping her fingers to indicate she’d just remembered something, Mrs. Perry added, “Oh
, I nearly forgot. There’s one addressed to both you and Evangeline too. It’s stamped ‘Langtree.’ I’m thinkin’ it might be from—”

“Amoretta!” Calliope squealed as Mrs. Perry drew another letter from her wooden box, offering it to Calliope. She knew at once that it was from Amoretta
, for the script was so beautiful and swirly and perfect, and no one in the world had handwriting as beautiful as Amoretta’s.

“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Perry,” Calliope said gratefully. “
We’ve got such plans, we Ipswich girls! Just you wait and see what fun plans we have!”