Vistaria Has Fallen (The Vistaria Affair/Vistaria Has Fallen #1)(37)

“That’s an easy promise to make,” Calli assured him.

Josh considered this for a moment, then looked at Minnie. “An army captain, huh? And Vistarian. Here’s me hoping you’d settle for a Wall Street guru, when you finally took the plunge, to look after me in my old age.”

*

In the cooler evenings, Minnie’s mother sat with them at the dining table and tonight Beryl even cooked a little. She talked of her return to the States and it seemed the impending departure energized her. It saddened Calli that Beryl’s health prevented her from enjoying the beauty of Vistaria. The return to the States would do her good, though.

They were still eating when a child came to the door bearing a huge bouquet of vivid colored flowers. She curtsied when Minnie answered the door and held out the flowers with a lovely smile.

Minnie took them and read the card tucked in amongst them. “Ah!” She held them out to Calli. “They’re for you.” She smiled.

Calli opened the little card.

Thank you, Miss Calli. D.

She looked at Minnie. “You knew.”

“He said he might. I encouraged him like mad.” She giggled. “They don’t have a delivery service here, so he had to pay a local kid.”

Calli looked at the flowers. Many of them she could not name. They were gorgeous. Beryl exclaimed over them while Calli got water and a vase.

“Whatever is this D person thanking you for?” Beryl asked.

“Calli saved his life,” Minnie said.

“No, really,” Beryl insisted.

“Really,” Minnie insisted right back.

“Oh,” Beryl said in a small voice.

Josh looked over his glasses at them. “D?” he asked.

“Duardo,” Minnie said.

“Army?” he asked, suspicion tingeing his tone.

“Captain,” Minnie said happily.

Josh’s gaze swiveled to Calli. “I see,” he said. He went back to his meal.

After dinner, when Calli stood out on the balcony grabbing fresh air, Josh found her there. He shut the sliding door soundlessly, then leaned against the balcony. “Tell me about this Duardo,” he said. “Is he a good man?”

“Yes,” Calli said, without hesitation.

“Does he care for her?”

“Yes.”

“Enough?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, Uncle Josh. I think so. I don’t know for sure. All I can say is that I’ll watch out for her.”

He thought about that one for a while. “It’s hard. She must take these bumps, make her own way. It’s hard, though, to watch your only daughter risk everything. I remember your father saying the same thing about Robert and now I know how he felt.”

Calli sighed. “I’m glad he died without knowing what Robert did.”

“He knew, Calli. He knew in his gut.”

She looked at him. “He never said anything.”

“You’d made your choice. What could he say? He hung around, hoping you’d figure it out and to be there to help you to pick up the pieces when it all fell apart, as he knew it would.”

“It must have killed him to stay out of it,” Calli murmured, tears stinging. “Maybe it did. They said the cancer was stress-related.”

“No, Calli, don’t go wearing that one too. You carry too much already.” Josh’s hand touched her shoulder.

She blinked the tears away. “He knew in his gut, about Robert?”

“Yes.”

“You believed him?”

“Without doubt.”

“That’s how I feel about Duardo, Uncle Josh. In my gut, I know he’s good. Minnie will be okay.”

Again he stayed silent, absorbing it. Then he straightened. “Thank you,” he murmured and went back inside, leaving her with her thoughts.

She had been alone barely a minute when the door slid aside again and Minnie stepped out. She held a cardboard box. “Another delivery for you.”

“Who is it this time?”

“I don’t know. Open it.”

Calli pulled the string off the box—it was the size of a cake box and brown like wrapping paper. She flipped the lid open. Inside sat a pair of Spanish tap shoes and resting on top of them a small, flat, thick blue velvet-covered presentation box. She smiled when she saw the shoes and held them up to Minnie. “Guess,” she said.

“Don’t have to,” Minnie said. She took the big cardboard carton from Calli and held it while Calli opened the smaller velvet one.

Inside lay an intricately worked silver belt buckle, made up of delicate filigree threads and adorned with green stones. Emeralds? A card sat tucked behind it. Calli plucked the card out and handed the box to Minnie.

Minnie gasped. “Holy Toledo!” she breathed. She pulled the buckle out and turned it over. “Yes, it is! This is Vistarian silver—see the stamp? These must be emeralds. I know they dig them up in the northern ranges.”

Calli opened the envelope. Inside was a small card.

In my soul, you will always be dancing. Keep it so in yours.

No signature. She didn’t need one. The strong, character-filled flourish on the down strokes was all she needed to know who signed it.

She handed the card to Minnie and leaned against the balcony rail again.