Angel's Rest

chapter FOURTEEN





By suppertime the following day, Nic was ready to declare the honeymoon officially over. Her husband was a tyrant.

First he demanded she hang a Closed sign on the clinic door and refer her patients to the vet hospital in Creede. No amount of calm, collected insistence that she could still perform her job while on crutches moved him. Next he refused to leave the bathroom while she hung her head over the toilet for her daily dose of morning sickness. Even if she did appreciate his steadying hands at her waist and his help keeping her hair out of the way, that didn’t mean she shouldn’t have control over who accompanied her to the bathroom under what circumstances. Finally, when she mentioned her intention to go to Cavanaugh House after supper for a meeting Celeste had requested, he took it upon himself to arrange for the meeting to be moved to Nic’s house without even asking her if she cared.

“Of all the nerve,” she grumbled as she sat in the overstuffed chair in her living room, her injured leg propped on an ottoman, flipping through the mail he’d brought in from the mailbox moments before.

The worst part of it was that she knew he was right about just about everything. She’d awakened stiff and sore this morning and hadn’t wanted to move, much less work. He’d filled the bathtub with warm water for her, and when she’d gone shy about getting naked in front of him, he’d shown amazing sensitivity and promised to keep his eyes closed while helping her in and out of the tub. She hadn’t caught him peeking, either.

She told herself she was glad about that.

She also told herself she shouldn’t be so grumpy, that she should be grateful to him for his help, and that it wasn’t his fault that it was snowing again and she was sick to death of winter. If she was honest with herself, she’d have to admit that the only reason she felt so put out was because she had planned a different beginning for their marriage when Gabe returned to Eternity Springs.

She’d spent a lot of time thinking about their situation while he was in Virginia. He’d called often, keeping her apprised of his schedule, sharing bits and pieces of his days, and nurturing the friendship growing between them. She’d enjoyed the phone calls. Each one left her feeling hopeful about the future and cautiously optimistic that her marriage just might take.

Aware that he was as skittish as a wounded fox, she’d known she would need to proceed slowly and carefully. She’d planned a strategy intended to nurture their relationship that included inviting Gabe over for dinner, spending time with him at town meetings and events, and, when the time was right, inviting him into her bed.

Her plan hadn’t included her being black-and-blue with bruises the first time he saw her naked.

Nic sighed heavily, set the electric bill and a postcard from her vacationing mother and aunt aside, then threw the junk mail in the trash just as her doorbell rang. Gabe stood up from the drawing board he’d set up in her library and answered the door, the boxer at his side. “Hello, Celeste.”

“Hello, dear.” Celeste went up on her tiptoes and gave Gabe a kiss on his cheek. “Welcome home.”

His expression registered surprise, and he smiled crookedly before saying, “Thanks.”

Next Celeste patted Tiger’s head and cooed, “Hello, puppy dog. Look at that tail wag. I bet you’re happy your daddy is home, aren’t you?”

Gabe rolled his eyes but refrained from the usual he’s-not-my-dog protest when a second woman Nic didn’t know followed Celeste into the house. She and Celeste both carried bulging tote bags.

“Gabe and Nic Callahan, I’d like to introduce you to Alison Timberlake. Alison Cavanaugh Timberlake. Ali is my first guest at Angel’s Rest. She’s coming to reconnect with her family roots.”

As Gabe said hello and shook the newcomer’s hand, Nic waved a hello to the attractive, classy-looking blonde wearing black slacks and a carnation-pink sweater set. “Welcome to our home and to Eternity Springs, Ms. Timberlake.”

“I’m Ali.”

“Ali, then. I’m Nic, and I’d get up, but my dictatorial husband has threatened me with torture if I rise from my chair in the next hour.”

Alison grinned and repeated, “Torture?”

Gabe nodded. “We had a discussion about bad disco music this morning. I promised to sing ‘Dancing Queen’ if she doesn’t behave.”

“I rest my case,” Nic said.

“As long as you rest your ankle and my back, that’s all I care about,” he fired back before offering to take the visitors’ coats.

Celeste laughed. “Ah, acting like old married folk already, I see.”

“Nothing old about it,” Gabe drawled. “Since she’s been acting like a five-year-old, it’s more realistic to say she’s my child bride.”

Nic decided to ignore that and changed the subject by asking Ali Timberlake, “Has Celeste told you about the journals we found that were written by Elizabeth Blaine Cavanaugh, who would be your great-great-grandmother?”

“Yes, she did.” Ali slipped leather gloves into the pocket of her cashmere coat and handed it to Gabe. “I’ve glanced through a few of them, and I’m anxious to read them. From what I understand, my branch of the Cavanaugh family descends from Elizabeth’s younger son, Lawrence, who married and left Eternity Springs. Her older son, Harry junior, remained in Eternity Springs.”

“The journals make fascinating reading. You’ll enjoy them.” Nic wondered if Celeste had mentioned Angel and the silver bars to the newcomer yet, and if Ali had any new information to offer about the mystery of Angel’s death. Knowing Celeste would share any news at an appropriate time, she addressed another curiosity. “What’s in the bags?”

“Supplies.” The older woman tugged off emerald-green knit gloves and a matching brimmed stocking cap, then allowed Gabe to help her out of her ski jacket. “LaNelle loaded me up. I hope we have enough for everyone, but tonight’s meeting is more organizational than anything. I don’t expect we’ll get down to work until next time.”

“What are we organizing?”

“A quilting bee. I’ve brought rotary cutters, cutting mats, cutting rulers, needles and threads, thimbles, scissors—lots of fun stuff.”

“Quilting?” Nic smirked with doubt. “I can’t even sew a hem.”

“No, you simply sew stitches in animals who are hurting,” Gabe pointed out.

Celeste crossed the room to Nic, placed a hand on her cheek, and looked deeply into her eyes. “How are you feeling, dear?”

“I’m fine.” At the older woman’s chastising look, she conceded, “I still have a bit of a headache. I’m achy and sore.”

“And grumpy,” Gabe called from the hallway, where he was hanging up coats.

Celeste clucked her tongue, then took a seat on the sofa and patted the cushion beside her for Ali to join her. “I hear that you received joyous news yesterday, Nic. You’re a mother to twins. How exciting. God’s blessings are indeed bountiful.”

Nic’s hand drifted to her stomach as her gaze cut toward Gabe. They hadn’t discussed the babies since leaving the hospital. He was doing a masterly job of avoiding the subject, and Nic saw no reason to force a discussion. After all, no immediate decisions regarding the babies needed to be made. He had months to grow accustomed to the fact that he’d soon be the father to two instead of one. “The news was certainly a surprise, but I think I’m up for the challenge.”

Ali Timberlake spoke up. “Two of my children are only eleven months apart in age. I often wished they’d been born twins. They were just far enough apart to always be on different schedules when they were little guys.”

“How many children do you have?” Nic asked.

“Three. Two boys and a girl.” Ali’s smile grew wistful. “My youngest, my girl, will be a senior in high school this fall, so the emptying of my nest is looming. I miss my babies. Enjoy your time with yours, Nic. It goes so fast. Too fast.”

Ali’s comments surprised Nic. She had guessed Ali to be no more than a year or two older than herself. Either the newcomer was quite a bit older than she looked or she’d started her family at a young age. “My friend Sarah’s only child is the same age as your daughter. She’s starting to go a little crazy thinking about Lori going off to college.”

The doorbell rang, and Gabe tended to the new arrivals. Sage plunked a hip on the arm of Nic’s chair and asked a few quiet questions about the babies and her pregnancy. Before long, eight women and Tiger were crowded into the living room. Gabe picked up the tray of sweets Sarah had brought and took them to the kitchen, then retreated to the library and his drawing board. After a few minutes for people to say hello and be introduced to Ali Timberlake, who bonded almost immediately with Sarah, Nic said, “Okay, Celeste, the floor is yours.”

“Thank you, Nic.” Celeste smiled around the room and continued, “Thank you all for coming tonight. I know you’re all curious why I called you all together, and I apologize for being cryptic with my invitation, but I wanted to present this idea face-to-face. You see, I’d like to invite you all to join me in establishing a quilting bee.”

“A quilting bee?” Sarah repeated. “Celeste, I swore off needles when I tried to make Lori a poodle skirt for the fifth-grade sock hop.”

“Just hear me out, Sarah. This idea is part of my vision for our healing center. I want to have a special quilt for each room, and I’d like them to be made from the fabrics of our lives in Eternity Springs. Fabrics like these.”

She reached into one of the totes and removed a stack of fabrics, which she spread out on the floor. Satins, silks, and laces, all in shades of white.

“Those look like pieces of wedding gowns,” Sarah said.

“Give the girl a bouquet.” Celeste pointed toward an off-white satin train. “That’s from Marlene Hart’s gown. The silk is Lisa Cartwright’s. The bodice with all the embellishments is Margaret Stewart’s.”

Nic said, “Each of those ladies has celebrated at least her silver anniversary. Margaret and Jess Stewart had an awesome golden anniversary party last year.”

“So you think it would be, what, a magic marriage quilt?” Emma Hall asked.

“No. The snow-white satin is Monica Brown’s. I understand that her marriage lasted less than a year.”

“Okay, then, I’m confused,” Sarah said.

Sage knelt on the floor and began examining the fabric. “I think I get it. A quilt made of wedding gowns would be symbolic of hope and happiness—that dream that every bride has on her wedding day.”

Not every bride, Nic thought, stealing a look at her husband and discovering that he was stealing one back at her, too. She quickly turned her attention back to Sage.

“That’s right,” Celeste agreed. “I do see the quilts as a symbol of Eternity Springs and the positive energies of its people. Take this wedding gown quilt, for example. Think of all that will go into it. Not just the love and hopes and dreams represented by these lovely fabrics, but the friendship, companionship, laughter, and love we will share as we work to create our quilts. It’s the compassion we feel for those who will come to our healing place with troubled souls and wounded spirits. Imagine being in a painful emotional place and snuggling up in a beautiful representation of the special life force that this town, this valley, has to offer.”

“Okay, I’m sold,” Emma Hall said. She glanced at LaNelle Harrison. “I trust you are going to teach us what to do and how to do it?”

“Of course. I have ulterior motives, you know. I figure I’ll get you all hooked on quilting and it will triple my business.”

“I want to play, too,” Sarah said. “However, I need to know what sort of time commitment we’re looking at. I’m stretched pretty thin already.”

Celeste nodded. “I’d like us to meet once a week, but don’t let that stop you from joining. I think we should be flexible. Our group should be something that’s fun, not a burden. If you know of anyone else you’d like to have join us, please feel free to invite them. We’ll have plenty of projects to work on.”

Sarah glanced at Nic and asked, “Do you think we could talk Lori into joining? I think it would be nice for us to participate in an activity as equals, not as mother and daughter.”

“That’s a great idea,” Nic replied. “I think she’d love to be part of this group.”

“Will all the quilts be wedding gown quilts?” Wendy Davis asked. “I’ll be happy to contribute mine to the cause. It’s just hanging in my closet gathering dust.”

“We can certainly make more than one wedding gown quilt, but I’d also like to make quilts from other fabrics of Eternity Springs. I’d like to see quilt tops made from kitchen curtains and children’s clothes. Happy things. Happy themes.”

“I love it.” Sage looked up from the length of lace she’d been studying. “How do we start?”

Celeste smiled at LaNelle. “That’s your cue, my friend.”

“We start by making some decisions. We must decide on our project’s size and pattern. I’ve brought pattern books for us to peruse.” LaNelle reached into the tote bag she’d brought along and passed around books and magazines. “Since we are making quilts for a healing center, I’ve marked patterns I think are appropriate for our theme. However, if everyone wants to do something different, that’s fine, too.”

The women pored over the pattern books, picked favorites, and discussed possibilities, then chose the Star of Hope pattern as the most appropriate design for their first bridal gown quilt. They settled on Tuesday night for their meetings and accepted Nic’s offer to meet at her home until she was back on her feet. After that, they’d move their meetings to Angel’s Rest and the room Celeste indicated would be dedicated to their effort.

As Sarah took a bite of one of Wendy Davis’ pinwheel cookies, she asked, “Shouldn’t we have a name for our group? Is this a guild or a bee?”

“A bee. A guild is a group of bees,” LaNelle said. “I do think we should choose a name. Any suggestions?”

Conversation lagged as they considered the question. “We could be the Eternity Quilters,” Sarah suggested.

Nic wrinkled her nose. “That’s boring.”

“Then you suggest something.”

With the disco song Gabe had teased her with earlier still playing through her mind, Nic came up with, “Okay, how about the Quilting Queens of Eternity Springs?”

Sarah gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “That’s stupid.”

Leaning against a cabinet and sipping a glass of water, Sage surveyed the room. Her gaze lingered on Celeste a moment, then she smiled. “I have it. I think we should call ourselves the Patchwork Angels.”

Celeste gasped and clapped her hands, her sky-blue eyes gleaming with delight. The name was adopted by acclamation and the Patchwork Angels Quilting Bee got down to work.


As spring finally arrived in the Rockies, ice cracked and creeks began to flow. Cottonwoods and aspen budded and bloomed, and the world turned green once more. Patches of snow would remain into May and sometimes even till June, but in Eternity Springs, citizens declared the official arrival of spring when Zach Turner posted signs forbidding skating on Hummingbird Lake.

Gabe and Nic had settled into a routine of sorts. In the mornings, he awoke ahead of her and showered and dressed first, then knocked on her bedroom door on his way downstairs to make coffee. Once Nic had washed and dressed, he carried her downstairs. Two weeks after the accident, Nic resumed clinic hours on a part-time basis. Gabe grew increasingly busy at Angel’s Rest as the healing center took shape.

In addition to refurbishing the main house, Celeste’s plans called for the construction of three slightly smaller Victorian-style structures to provide rooms for up to thirty guests on the property, along with a separate dining facility. By the first week of May, those buildings, including the spa facility that was part of Gabe’s design for the hot springs pools, were ready for finish work inside. Outdoors, landscape construction proceeded at such a pace that Gabe came home marveling about the progress almost every day. He’d never had a job go as smoothly as this. Of course, he’d never seen working conditions quite like this before, either.

To say that the citizens of Eternity Springs were grateful for the activity was an understatement of epic proportions. Local enterprises reported that business had more than doubled in March and April over the previous year. Townspeople were happy, and they showed their gratitude to laborers by being friendly and welcoming and by offering treats like cookie breaks in the afternoon and complimentary rounds of Miracle Mead microbrew at the Red Fox Pub. As a result, happy laborers worked harder and the project took shape ahead of schedule. Mayor Townsend’s favorite saying of late was that this was shaping up to be the greenest spring the town had ever seen. Crusty old Dale Parker even went so far as to rename the Fill-U-Up, calling it Eternity’s Angel Gas and Grocery Emporium in Celeste’s honor.

On an afternoon in early May, while finishing up a phone call with the chemist who had done the water testing for the center, Gabe glanced out the library window at Angel’s Rest and saw Nic sitting in the front porch swing reading a book.

After lunch, she had asked him to help her upstairs so that she could offer her opinion about room designs Celeste intended to finalize on an upcoming buying trip. Though her knee and ankle injuries were almost healed, she still needed assistance going up and down stairs. Gabe was happy to carry her. Truth be told, he enjoyed the contact.

He ended the call, but he couldn’t drag his gaze away from his wife. When he’d carried her back downstairs twenty minutes ago, he’d noticed she’d been wearing a new scent, a musky, spicy fragrance that made him want to pull her even closer. He’d supposed it was one of the custom scents that Celeste had commissioned for the healing center. If so, she’d hit a home run with the fragrance Nic wore, a combination of the peach scent that she liked and a heavier, exotic blend of spice. It had lingered in his senses for an hour now.

She’d been lingering in his thoughts for days. Weeks, even. Okay, months.

The friendship strategy had worked out well so far. They managed well together. The awkwardness between them rarely appeared anymore. He enjoyed her company. Her injury had effectively doused the sexual tension that had smoldered between them, allowing them to focus on getting to know each other. The more time he spent with her, the better he liked her. She was funny, witty, cranky in the morning, and soft and sweet in the evenings when she fell asleep on the sofa while watching TV.

Watching her now with her good leg folded up beneath her, the injured leg pushing against the porch to keep the swing in motion, he knew that the sex-not-possible-because-it-hurts-her-to-move excuse was soon to disappear. He clenched his jaw and sucked a breath past his teeth. Damn.

He wanted her.

She was … sunshine. She was warm and bright and full of life. She drew him like a moth to flame. He wanted to take her to bed and share in her light.

What was he going to do about it? Had he changed in the weeks since their California trip? Could he have sex without feeling guilty when it was over? He needed to be sure the answer was yes before approaching her. The last thing he wanted to do was to screw up what they had now.

And yet, if his head was finally on straight, what they had now could become even better.

Maybe the thing to do was to discuss it with Nic. One thing he’d learned from living with her was that she preferred to get things out in the open and face them head-on rather than p-ssyfoot around. Maybe talking about it ahead of time would avoid awkwardness when, and if, the right time rolled around.

“The right time,” he muttered to himself. “That sounds like an erectile dysfunction commercial.”

That was definitely not his problem.

Gabe exhaled a deep breath, then went into the kitchen, where he poured two glasses of lemonade. He stepped out onto the front porch. “Thirsty?”

She set her book aside. “You read my mind. Thanks.”

He handed her a glass, then joined her on the swing. “What are you reading?”

She gave him a considering look. “You probably don’t want to know.”

He arched a brow, then reached for the book. One Thousand and One Baby Names. He winced and gave her back the book, wishing he’d left well enough alone.

“Okay. That answers that question. Still not ready to deal with this particular reality, are you?”

“Let’s just say that’s not what I came out here to talk to you about.”

“Oh? And that would be …?”

Well, hell. He couldn’t exactly talk about sex now, could he? Instead he brought up the other subject that had been on his mind today. “Today is my twin brothers’ birthday.”

“You have twin brothers?”

He nodded. “Apparently twins run in the family. I think I’d like to tell you about them. About what happened to my family.”

“I’d like that very much.”

So he told her. He explained about growing up in Brazos Bend, Texas, and the way the family fell apart in the wake of his mother’s death. He told her about being sent off to military school and being recruited by the State Department. “I was good with languages.”

Her eyes rounded. “You were a spy?”

“Officially I was an embassy worker in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Then he told her about Sarajevo, the shooting, his time as a prisoner, and the rescue.

“Is that where you got the scars on your chest?”

“Yeah. Look, I don’t want to go into all the gory details. All that really matters is that it was best for the good guys if I died, so I did.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They faked my death. I went back to the States and started a new life. Think of it as a version of the witness protection program.”

Nic blinked. “Whoa. Wait one minute. You’re in a witness protection program?”

“No. It’s nothing official. Except, of course, all my government documents are legit.”

Now she gaped at him. “Are you telling me you’re not really Gabe Callahan?”

“No, not at all. I didn’t have to change my name. They created a past for me, issued me a new social security number, and did a little work on my face. I started going by my middle name rather than my first.” He explained how he’d enrolled in grad school to study landscape architecture, met and married Jennifer, and made a name for himself—as Gabe Callahan—in his field.

“Weren’t you worried someone would recognize you?”

“No. The government made my death very convincing. Plus I look different.”

“Wow,” she said after a moment’s thought. “This just blows me away. I sensed you had secrets in your past, but I never guessed anything like this. What you are telling me is that, in effect, you gave your life for your country.”

“No, not at all. That makes me sound …”

“Like a hero?”

“I’m no hero, Nic. Don’t think of it as some big sacrifice, because it wasn’t. It wasn’t like we all lived in the same town and got together for Sunday dinners. The truth is that when John Callahan died, I found my life.”

“You act as if John Callahan and Gabe Callahan are two different people.”

He shrugged. “It’s been two different lives.” At least.

“I seldom think about John Callahan’s life. It’s easier that way. Although I do like to drink a toast in my brothers’ honor on their birthdays. I imagine they do the same for John.”

“It’s weird how you speak of yourself in the third person.”

“Makes me feel like a pro athlete,” he dryly replied.

She grinned. “You’ve talked about your brothers before. There are three of them, right? Do you have any sisters?”

“No sisters. I’m told the guys have all married now, though, so there would be sisters-in-law. My … um … manager, I guess you could call him, updates me when I ask.”

“You don’t see your family at all?”

“No.” Gabe drew in a deep breath, then exhaled heavily. “My family is politically connected. For the plan to work, they had to believe I was dead. The black hats were well aware of the Callahan family’s response.”

Nic’s eyes rounded in shock. “That’s horrible. That’s just so sad.”

She took his hand in hers and gave it a comforting squeeze. She seldom touched him casually, though it was something she did with others all the time. It made him realize just how careful she was around him, and he found comfort in her spontaneity now. He turned his hand, linking their fingers, and they sat holding hands and swinging gently back and forth.

After a time she asked, “Was it worth it? Are you glad you made the choice you made?”

He couldn’t tell her about the high-level Al Qaeda operative whose defection his own “death” had provided cover for, or that the information the terrorist had offered up thwarted a terrorist attack on America, so all he said was, “Yeah, I am.”

“Would your family think it was worth it?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes. They would. They are patriotic to a man. I only wish …”

“What?” she prodded.

“At the time it all went down, I didn’t know how much it hurt to lose someone. I might have looked for another way.”

“So this happened how long ago?”

“Over ten years now. It’s hard to believe so much time has passed, that I’ve gone so long without talking about them. Other than my contact, you are the only one I’ve told.”

Surprise widened her eyes. “Jennifer didn’t know?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “No, not the whole story. When I met her, the situation was such that I couldn’t. After that … well, it was complicated.”

“So you lost your Callahan family, then you lost your wife and son. I think I’m finally beginning to understand why you have trouble with …” She held up the baby name book.

Gabe closed his eyes. “You married a head case, I’m afraid.”

She tightened her hand around his, then released him. “Sorry, Callahan. I’m of the opinion that you’re the strongest man I know. I’m glad you told me about your brothers.”

The conversation lulled, but he didn’t leave. He could almost hear the wheels spinning in her mind. Eventually, she picked the baby name book up again and opened it. “What are your brothers’ names?”

He winced.

She noticed and said, “What?”

“It’s so, well, corny. Let me put it in context. My parents were married a long time before my mom got pregnant the first time. They thought they were infertile. She named my oldest brother Matthew. Yes, my Matty was named for him. Then, when she had the twins, she decided to continue the biblical theme. They’re Mark and Luke.”

Nic pursed her lips, holding back a laugh. “Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John?”

“In our hometown, they called us the Holy Terrors of Texas.”

Without conscious thought, she placed her hand over her stomach. “Did you all have celestial middle names?”

“Nah. Our middle names had no special meaning. Mom said she just liked the name Gabriel.”

She thought about it a little longer than said, “Celeste would say it’s no coincidence that you ended up in Eternity Springs. She’d say that Gabriel was meant to find his way here, where Angel Creek runs at the center of the valley.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Starting the whole healing woo-woo stuff a little early there, aren’t you?”

“Nope. I don’t think so. Thank you for sharing this, Gabe. It means a lot.”

He shrugged, uncertain why he’d said so much. Why had he told her about the Callahans? Why did he trust her so much?

While he searched for answers, she met and held his gaze. “What happened to you—losing your family, twice—that’s not right. I think you need to be here. I think you need to be with me. With …” She reached for his hand and placed it atop her womb, pressing lightly. “Us.”

Gabe felt movement beneath his hand and closed his eyes. He felt as if he were standing at the peak of Murphy Mountain and a breath of wind would push him over the cliff.

Nic continued. “Like it or not, Callahan, the twins and I are your family now. When you are ready for us, we’ll be waiting.”

It was, he thought, the perfect thing to say. This was why he’d confided in her. Why he trusted her.

When it came to wounded souls, Nicole Sullivan Callahan had a healer’s touch.