An Irresistible Bachelor(101)

Moving quickly through the party, Jack shut himself in his study, picked a note card off his desk, and dialed the phone.

The voice was harried on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" There was a muffled noise and then, "No, no, honey, Daddy's got the phone."

A wail sounded out.



"Bryan McKay?" Jack said.

"Yes." There was a loud sigh. "Listen, I don't accept phone calls from telemarketers—”

"This is Jack Walker."

Pure silence. And then, "Oh, my God. Ah—hello, how did you get my home number? Never mind, you must have people who—Oh, my God. What can I do for you?"

"Take a deep breath first."

Jack laughed as the good doctor actually did it.

"Dr. McKay, I'm going to invest in your company. I'm going to fund your entire operation for the next three years, down to the cost of lightbulbs and floor mops."

There was another resounding silence and then, "OhmyGod—ohmyGod—”

Jack smiled, feeling good about his decision.

"Now, listen, we're going to have work out some details," he said crisply. "I'm not just investing, I'm going to help you guys make it. Your family and I are going to be in business together."





Callie reached into the bin, took hold of a piece of paper, and then felt it slip from her grasp on the way to her lap. The page scooted under the couch and she muttered a few choice words as she got on her hands and knees, hiked up the slipcover's kick pleat and stuck her hand into the darkness.

When she felt paper under her fingertips, she sat back up and brushed off the darkened, half-torn sheet.

Her breath caught the moment she noted its deep brown color. It was old. Very old. Carefully holding the two sides together, she could barely make out the words because the ink was so faded.

She leaned over to the light and tried to read the sprawling script.



Dear Nathaniel—

It is with great sorrow that I must detail the passing of my beloved daughter Anne. She went unto the Lord's gentle hands on 15th September. My sorrow is boundless, coming to me in the night and under the sun likewise. In the disposition of her things, I found your letters to her and I return them herein to your care as a matter of discretion. Had I but known of her feelings for you and yours to her, I would have been o'er joyed at the prospect of a marriage. I cherished her like nothing on earth, but would have granted her passage into your house because I know of the man you are. Tis a double loss to my heart that I came so close to calling you son. Our angel is with the rest.

Yours faithfully, J.J. Rowe







Callie looked up. Over the tattered edge of the paper, she saw the portrait.

She reread the letter and went to the painting.

Reaching out, she brushed her fingertips lightly over Nathaniel's cheek and then stared at the reflection of the girl he had loved and lost.



September fifteenth.



The Battle of Concord had been staged in early September. Which meant that Nathaniel and Anne's failed midnight meeting had been a matter of weeks before she'd died. Afraid of her father's reaction, Anne had missed her last chance to see the man she loved, but it had been for no reason. If the general's letter truly reflected his feelings, he would have approved of the union       after all.

Callie looked into Nathaniel's eyes, shaking her head ?adly at what he had lost. And what might have been.

Good Lord, to have missed so much out of a fear that was ultimately unfounded.

Anne would still have died, in all probability, but who knew what would have come of that meeting? A marriage proposal? Perhaps Nathaniel would have taken her with him somehow and she wouldn't have contracted typhus in the city.

Callie wondered what kinds of regrets Anne had had. By the time the girl fell ill, it would have been too late to get word to Nathaniel, so her destiny to forgo a last good-bye was sealed. Her father and her love were fighting and away from Boston. Even if she had sent for Nathaniel, it was doubtful she could have reached him in time, given the constraints of communication and the confusion of battle. It was hard not to imagine the sickened girl yearning to see the man she cared for so deeply.

Callie put the letter down and wandered over to the windows that overlooked Buona Fortuna. The mansion was stunning in its illuminated glory. For a house that appeared so dour in the daylight, at night, with lights shining in all the rooms, it was dazzling.