The Forgiving Heart by Deb Kastner

Author:Deb Kastner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2000-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

When Callie didn’t return with his keys, Rhett became concerned. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her—quite the opposite, in fact.

She was a woman who kept her word, which was why he became antsy when she didn’t show. He wouldn’t say he was worried, exactly.

Okay, so he was worried.

Especially considering the last time he’d seen her was the field house. He could think of all kinds of trouble for her to get into there.

What if one of the boys on parole decided to show up and give her a hard time? What if one of the dogs got loose and she panicked?

He wasn’t worried so much about the dogs, knowing they’d sooner lick her to death than harm her, but he was concerned about Callie’s reaction to having the situation out of her control.

He knew her well enough to know she was a control freak. And if she didn’t appear confident around the dogs, his less-trained dogs would sense her anxiety and become agitated and unpredictable.

And if one of the big dogs got loose and Callie panicked…

That thought alone was enough to make him grab his car keys, which, thankfully, weren’t attached to the field house keys, and drive down to the field house. Just to make sure everything was all right, and Callie was home safe and sound, simply forgetting she’d promised to return them this evening.

He was overreacting, he kept telling himself, but the thought of Callie in any kind of danger drove him on, despite the knowledge of how foolish he’d feel if he were wrong.

He didn’t know whether to be relieved or troubled to find that Callie wasn’t at the field house. He didn’t have the key to get in, but the doors were locked and the safety lights were on.

Apparently, she’d done exactly what she’d said she would do, locked up and gone home.

He chuckled. He was seeing shadows behind every tree these days, and most of them of his own making. So much for the wisdom and maturity of age and faith.

Still smiling, he got on the police radio and asked the dispatcher for Callie’s home address, deciding to save her a trip out later. That he was also reassuring his overactive imagination he wouldn’t admit—except to himself.

He had to knock twice before she answered.

She peeked out through the one inch of space her chain lock allowed, but even so, Rhett could see that she’d been crying.

“Can I come in?” he asked gently, his concern resurfacing with a vengeance.

Without a word, she closed the door.

He thought that action was the definitive answer to his question until he heard the lock turning, at which point his heart swelled until he could hardly breathe. She reopened the door and gestured him inside.

Her small, ranch-style cottage was typical of the neighborhood. Old and run-down. But he immediately noticed just how much Callie had done with the place to make her house a home.

Frilly gingham curtains hung in the windows, and there were houseplants galore in every corner of the room.

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