An Irresistible Bachelor (An Unforgettable Lady #2)(51)

“Get up, Callie.” Her mother’s voice had trembled with urgency.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’ve got to go out.” Her mother had gone over to the dresser and started to pull out sweaters and pants, tossing them in disarray onto the floor. “Come on. Hurry. Put something on.”

Callie had known better than to ask any more questions. When her mother was like that, the easiest thing was to do as she was told. And that night, the anger vibrating in the air had been as bad as she’d ever seen it.

Out on the street, in the cold January wind, her mother had hailed a cab. As they squeezed inside, she’d barked out an address that Callie didn’t recognize. During the ten-minute trip, the cab surged and halted through traffic lights and she’d wished she was back home. She kept thinking about her warm bed to distract herself from the way the taxi smelled and how her mother was muttering under her breath.

The cab had pulled over in front of a big private home in a neighborhood that was much better than the one they lived in. In this part of town, there was no trash in the gutters and all of the grand houses were decorated for the holidays. Each one had a pretty wreath with a velvet bow on its front door and Christmas trees twinkled through wide, clean windows.

Her mother had grabbed her hand and marched up the stairs of the mansion. When they’d gotten to the glossy front door, her mother had reached for the knocker and Callie had hoped she didn’t break it. It was a golden lion’s head with a ring in the nose, more majestic than scary.

Her mother had raised the ring and Callie had braced herself for when it was slammed down. But her mother had stopped. She’d just stood there, frozen in time, one hand on the brass knocker raised high, the other gripping Callie’s arm.

As the pressure of her mother’s grip cut off circulation, Callie had let out a whimper. “Mommy, you’re hurting me.”

Her mother had looked down and blinked, as if wondering what Callie was doing there with her. And then the door opened, ripping the knocker from her mother’s hand. The ring fell with a sharp sound.

On the other side was a couple like the ones Callie had seen in the newspaper or on the TV. The lady had been wearing a long, dark fur coat and the man had been dressed in a tuxedo with a white scarf around his neck.

They seemed as surprised as her mother did.

“Good evening,” the man had said, bending slightly at the waist. He held the door open even wider and warmth rushed out of the house along with a pool of light. As his wife had stepped onto the stoop, he’d patiently stood to one side. “Madam?”

“We’re not . . .” Her mother had paused. “We’re not going in.”

The man had frowned and then the woman had prompted him with a tug on his arm. Before the door had closed, Callie had gotten a brief glimpse of some of the people inside. They all looked so beautiful. Like dolls on a wedding cake, she’d thought.

While her mother stared off into the distance, Callie had watched the couple walk two doors down and disappear into another fancy house with a pretty wreath. She would have liked to explore the neighborhood, but the icy wind was cutting through her coat and she’d started to shiver. She’d wondered why her mother wasn’t cold. She hadn’t even put a coat on over her dress.

“Mommy? Can we go home now?”

“Yes.”

Her mother had started back down to the street, all the while staring through the big windows of the mansion. Before she had followed, Callie had stood on her tiptoes, trying to figure out what her mother was so fascinated by.

And then she’d seen her father.

“That’s Daddy!” She’d jumped with excitement. “Let’s go see Daddy.”

Her mother had quickly hushed her. “Come on.”

“I want to go to Daddy!”

Her mother had run up the stairs and urged her along. Callie’s voice had risen to a whine. “But why can’t we see Daddy—”

Suddenly, her mother was down on her level.

“I said no! ” she’d hissed, grabbing onto Callie’s shoulders and shaking her. “We are not going in there. Do you understand? He had his chance to see you tonight but he blew it!”

Callie had burst into tears.

“Then why did we come?” she’d sobbed.

Her mother had instantly stopped. With a sad moan, she’d crushed Callie to her chest.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so very sorry.”

With a start, Callie came back to the present. Her father never had come to see her on her birthday. He’d had twenty-seven tries at it, but hadn’t shown up once.

She let out her breath and pushed the hair from her face.

God, she hated remembering the past. It did awful things to her chest, making her feel like she was breathing through a rag stuffed down her throat.

Hopping off the window seat, she threw on some clothes and headed to the studio. When she got up to the garage, she decided to put on some music and work on the documents. She flipped through the CD collection by the stereo and decided that Norah Jones was not going to be a good call, not unless she wanted to cry all day long. When some big band swing was coming from the rafters, she went to the bin she’d pulled over to the couch and sat down.

She’d started to arrange the papers chronologically and it was a fascinating menagerie. Handwritten receipts for goods from the 1800s. A purchase contract for the tract of land on which Buona Fortuna now stood from 1871. A diploma from Harvard with the name Phillip Constantine Walker and the date 1811 on it. A scrap of paper with a scrawled Walker signature.