up with design ideas.” He smiled as Paige set down his coffee. “Something like this is leaps-and-bounds easier.”
“Oh?” Something about the way he spoke ignited her impatience. “Why is that?”
“Well, it’s not as big as most projects I’ve worked on. Not much to it, really. A couple of buildings, a classroom or two. Throw it all together, one, two, three.” He reached behind him and patted the cardboard tube. “I’ve already got a sketch I think the mayor will be more than happy with.”
“Throw it all together.” Calliope’s insides burned. She swallowed hard, hoping to rid herself of the bitterness—and offense—coursing through her. “You’ve done all that work already without looking at the land itself? Without taking anything into consideration, like the migratory patterns of the butterflies or plans we townsfolk might have for the use of the structures?”
Xander frowned. “As I said, it should all be straightforward. There’s nothing particularly, well, special about it.”
“Nothing special about it,” Calliope muttered more to herself than to him.
The sound of clanking dishes and raised voices in the kitchen startled her and put a brake on the tirade building behind her lips. How could he come up with a design without having looked at the property? The land would have to be cleared, trees cut down and roads built. Even worse, he didn’t think the sanctuary needed to be anything “special”?
Xander sipped his coffee and arched a challenging eyebrow at her. “You’re not going to say our ideas are damaging to the land, are you? At least not without seeing our plan first.”
“Of course not. I like to have all the information in front of me before I make any kind of judgment. If you’ll excuse me, I believe I’m needed in the kitchen.”
Calliope managed a weak smile before she turned toward the kitchen’s swinging door, grateful for the excuse to escape.
And she walked into something she could only describe as a silent standoff. She stopped just inside, the door bopping her in the back as she found Ursula, spatula in hand, advancing on a pale-looking Holly, who wielded her own weapon—her grandmother’s ancient rolling pin.
It wasn’t hostility Calliope felt vibrating on the air, but frustration. And more than a little concern.
“I hope I’m interrupting.” She kept her voice gentle but was purposely loud enough to stop whatever words were about to come flying out of Ursula’s mouth.
The barely five-foot cook swung to face her, knuckles white around the handle of the spatula. Her short gray hair was cropped around a thin face in a way that gave her a hawkish appearance. Ursula’s less than friendly demeanor put off a lot of people, but Calliope had known the older woman long enough to recognize that look was more defense mechanism than bad temper. There was no one in town more protective of those they loved than Ursula Kettleman.
The harrumph Calliope received in response would have made her smile if she hadn’t noticed Holly’s colorless face. In that instant, Calliope understood precisely why Paige was concerned about their friend. There was a dullness in the diner owner’s eyes, like a specter of fear had taken up residence and she couldn’t quite shake it loose. Holly’s hands trembled as she swiped tears off her cheeks before she turned her back on both Calliope and Ursula.
“I’m taking a break,” Ursula muttered and tossed her spatula onto the counter beside the griddle. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her.”
“What kind of sense would she be needing?” Calliope kept her voice light. She didn’t want Holly to walk away as well.
“Thinks she’s superwoman,” Ursula mumbled. “She can’t keep working herself into the ground because she’s too scared to face what’s worrying her.” The cook whipped her apron off her waist and tossed it onto a hook before she slammed out of the kitchen.
“Sorry about that.” Holly managed a watery smile as Calliope turned back to her. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her all of a sudden. She hovers around me like she’s...” Tears exploded in her eyes before she set down the rolling pin and sank onto the tall stool next to her workstation.
“Like she’s your mother, I know.” Calliope walked over and wrapped an arm around Holly’s shoulders. She squeezed hard, partly to push the fear coursing through Holly to the surface, partly to see if she could sense what was beneath the avalanche of emotions. “In a lot of ways she is. That’s quite a badge of honor if you ask me.”
“I know.” Holly nodded and let out a shuddering breath. “She stepped in when my grandmother died. I need to remember she thinks she’s responsible for me.”
Something sparked under Calliope’s fingers. Something unexpected and... Calliope circled around her friend, took one of Holly’s hands in hers and squeezed. “You’re scared. And no, this isn’t me and what you call my woo-woo feelings. You never cry, Holly. Even when you should. What’s going on? Paige said you cancelled your doctor’s appointment this afternoon. Why?”
“I can’t explain it.” She pressed a hand against her rounded stomach. “I’m—I’m afraid something’s wrong with the baby.”
“And you’re afraid to find out for sure?”
“No. Well, yes. Dr. Oswald doesn’t really listen to me. He thinks I’m overreacting. But something’s off.” She gripped Calliope’s hand so hard Calliope winced. “Nothing is the same this time. Simon was easy to carry. I can’t sleep because I’m worried and I can’t talk to Luke—”
“Of course, you can talk to Luke.” Calliope’s heart constricted. “There’s no one in this world who loves you more than that beautiful husband of yours.”
“He wants this baby so much. I wasn’t sure at first, you know, because of his history with his own father. That he’d be afraid about being a father.”
“Anyone who sees Luke with Simon knows that isn’t true, or wouldn’t be true,” Calliope assured her. “He’s been a wonderful dad to him from day one.”
Holly nodded, her lips curving slightly. “I know. And in the last couple of weeks, he’s really been embracing the idea. He’s hoping for a girl. He gets this goofy grin on his face whenever he talks about the baby and I can’t bear the thought of him worrying.”
“But it’s all right for you to worry for both of you?” Calliope sighed. Why were all her women friends so incredibly stubborn? “So is Ursula upset because you won’t go to the doctor or because you won’t talk to Luke about this?”
“Both,” Holly mumbled. “I know I have to find out for sure, but what if...”
Calliope let go of Holly’s hand and caught her face in her palms. “What if everything is fine? You need to go, Holly. And you need to see a doctor who will listen to you and do all they can to alleviate your fears.”
Holly nodded. “I know. I’m making it worse, aren’t I?”
“You’re making things more difficult than you need to, yes.” Calliope released her hold and rested her hands on Holly’s stomach. “You trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”Holly looked down at her belly and sniffled. “I don’t suppose you can tell me...”
A jolt of energy sparked against her hand, causing a slow smile to spread across Calliope’s lips. She closed her eyes and blocked out the muted noise of the diner—children’s laughter, spoons clanking against coffee cups. The calm, cool silence of contentment she tried to carry around with her every day descended, encapsulating her and Holly for an instant before Calliope found the answer.
“Oh.” Calliope’s eyes flew open and she bit her lip, a laugh bubbling up from her toes. “Oh, Holly.” She blinked away her own tears. “I think you need to make a new appointment. In fact, I’m going to call a friend of mine and have her get you in.