not dread—but anticipation.
Chapter Seven
Jack clicked his tongue, encouraging the horse to pick up the pace as the sun edged lower on the horizon. Not that he needed daylight to find his way. Even after eleven years, the road was as familiar to him as his own face.
He’d already made a quick stop at Virgil’s place to let him know he wouldn’t need to worry about handling the chores at the Tyler farm any longer. Luckily he’d caught Virgil out in the barn so he hadn’t had to spend time on pleasantries with his friend’s family. There’d be time enough for neighborly visits in the days to come.
Jack didn’t really consider himself a sentimental man, so the little kick of expectation that hit him when he turned the buggy onto the familiar drive surprised him.
As soon as the house came into full view, he tugged on the reins, halting the horse and buggy. The sight that greeted him was at once soul-deep familiar and strangely foreign.
The same two-story gabled structure sat on the lawn like a fat hen guarding her nest.
The same large oak tree spread its made-for-climbing branches over the left side of the lawn.
The same red barn pointed its cupola to the sky.
But Lanny and Julia, not to mention Father Time, had made noticeable changes. There was now a roomy swing on one end of the wraparound front porch. The oak tree was several feet taller and its branches shaded a much larger patch of ground than Jack remembered. And the gray-and-black speckled dog that came bounding from behind the barn was nothing like ole Clem.
With another flick of the reins, Jack directed the horse around the house and into the barn.
There were several changes in here as well. The old buggy had been replaced with a roomier one and it seemed Lanny had invested in some interesting-looking tools and equipment. It might be worth his while to do a little exploring in here when he had some time.
But for now he had to take care of bedding down the animals while there was still light enough to see by. He gave the energetic dog a bit of attention, then unhitched the horse and patted the animal as it moved past him toward the water trough.
As he worked at the chores that had once been second nature, his mind wondered over the day’s happenings.
Callie was a puzzle to him. Her intentions and determination were admirable, but he didn’t believe she understood what she was up against. Such an obviously sheltered city girl would have a hard time adjusting to life in a place like this. Especially now that she didn’t have a husband to smooth the way for her.
Still, there was something about the woman, something about the way she faced a fracas head-on rather than shying away that he found intriguing.
Had her life back in Ohio been so terrible that even with what had happened, she—
Jack gave his head a shake. He’d let her get under his skin. He had to remember that her personal problems were no concern of his. She wanted to challenge his claim to Annabeth, and that made her his opponent.
He gave the carriage horse one last brush with the currycomb then patted her again, sending her into an empty stall.
Once he’d fed and watered the other animals and taken care of the evening milking, Jack headed for the house. As he climbed the porch steps he ran a hand over the familiar support post. The etched image of a rearing horse his father had carved into the wood one rainy summer afternoon was still discernable, even under the layer of new paint.
Family mattered. Shared history mattered. That was something only he could offer those kids.
Jack stepped inside, noting the addition of a new screen door as he passed. He wandered through the first floor, feeling strangely disoriented by the mix of the familiar and the new. Everywhere he looked he could see where Julia and Lanny’s lives together had left a lasting imprint on the Tyler family home. New curtains here, a new chair there. A tin type picture of Julia’s parents now shared space on the mantle with those of the Tyler family. There was also a tintype of Lanny and Julia. Julia held an infant on her lap.
He soon discovered a room had been tacked on to the back of the house. Inside sat a shiny porcelain bathtub and some new-fangled laundry equipment. A hand pump stood against the far wall, sprouting from the back lip of a large metal sink. Next to the sink, a small iron fire box supported a large kettle, ready to heat the water when needed. Large windows set high on three of the four walls would provide ventilation without sacrificing privacy. Someone had even strung a cord below the rafters, no doubt to be used for hanging wet laundry when the weather made it uncomfortable to do so outside.
Not for the first time Jack admired his brother’s ingenuity. He could see how this setup would have been a great convenience for Julia. And it would make his life here with the kids that much easier, too.
Jack climbed the stairs, curious to see the bedchambers.
The first room he stepped into was the one he and Lanny had shared as children. Gone were the rock collections, pouches of marbles and patched overalls that had once marked it as the room of two active boys.
Now, everything was clean and neatly arranged. A number of subtle feminine touches had been added, too, no doubt thanks to Julia.
Still, if one looked close enough, the memories were there, lurking in the shadows. Memories of horseplay and fights, of discussions in the dark long after they were supposed to be asleep, of the big brother he’d adored and resented by turns.
Jack stepped farther into the room, looking for the wooden chests his father had built for them. He and Lanny had used them to store their few personal possessions.
Lanny’s was nowhere in sight but Jack found his tucked below the window sill with a lace doily and a needlework picture of some flowers on top.
Inside were the things he’d treasured growing up, the few items that had been his alone, that had never belonged to Lanny. He lifted out a leather pouch with a grin. It contained exactly twelve marbles—two nice sized aggies and ten immies. Lanny had given him two of these and taught him how to use them, but the rest Jack had won for himself from schoolyard games.
Of course, he’d never beaten Lanny. Lanny had been good at just about everything he tried. Much as Jack loved his brother, growing up in his shadow hadn’t been easy.
Which was one of the reasons he’d left Sweetgum. Only he’d never intended to stay away so long.
Jack shut the lid on the chest and left the room. Too bad he couldn’t shut out his feelings of guilt so easily.
He walked across the hall and opened the door to Nell’s old room. It still had the stamp of a little girl occupant—lace and frills and brightly colored hair ribbons everywhere. This had to be Annabeth’s domain now.
A rag doll lay on the bed. He should bring it to her in the morning, to give her back a little bit of her home.
Jack reached for it, but his fingers curled back into his palm. There was no similar memento he could bring to Nell’s kids. How would they feel as they watched Annabeth enjoy her piece of home?
He turned and left the room empty-handed.
Jack skipped the room next to Annabeth’s and moved instead to the one across from it. This used to be his mother’s domain. Its main function had been as a sewing room, but it had served a multitude of other purposes, too. A pull-down bed had turned it into a guest room when the rare overnight visitor came calling. Spare odds and ends had been stored on shelves that lined two of the walls. And his mother had also hung dried flowers and herbs in bunches from the rafters.
As soon as Jack pushed the door open, he was assaulted by the familiar smells of his childhood. Floral scents mingled with dill, mustard and mint. He could almost imagine his mother working in here, humming in that off-key way she had.
As he looked at the room, he noticed a nearly finished lap quilt attached to the quilting frame, patiently waiting for the