Her Unexpected Hero. Cheryl Harper

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       CHAPTER TWO

      CALEB CALLAWAY WAS certain no man his age should still be summoned to the dinner table like a rebellious teenager. Living in Nashville meant he could come and go as he pleased most of the time. Until a few months ago, he’d dropped in at the family manse whenever the mood hit. His mother celebrated every visit. His stepfather disapproved of his choices, and his brother turned everything into a competition. Going home was work. Holidays were a requirement. Every other day of the year, he lived well and visited the Knoxville Callaways when it was convenient.

      Then Winter Kingfisher had barged into his office, tilted his world sideways with her passion for the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve and her own family, and convinced him to be some kind of hero. At that point, the Callaway family welcome mat had been rolled up and locked away.

      Not even Christmas had brought about a thaw in the standoff. He’d spent it in Hawaii. Alone. The less-crowded beaches had been nice. Realizing that he was traditional enough to want cold and snow and fireplaces and Christmas ham served at his mother’s table had been surprising.

      The discovery that all the acquaintances who liked to eat out on his reputation and credit dried up like snow in Waikiki the minute Callaway money disappeared had surprised him more than it should have.

      Getting caught in the mess between the Kingfishers and the Callaways hadn’t been his idea, and being drafted to run the lodge project had seemed a long shot.

      His stepfather, Whitney Callaway, Sr. ran Callaway Construction. Always had, always would, and the two of them got along better with miles separating them.

      The longer his family’s silence had dragged, the more Caleb had been convinced Senior had realized the error of his decision to make building the lodge his stepson’s penance for interference. Senior liked control. He wouldn’t give that away.

      But something had changed and his stepfather had made a personal call to tell him to come for dinner. Tell, not ask. Senior never had been much for asking. That was most of their problem: communication.

      The fact that he was parked next to a fountain complete with a spitting fish, the centerpiece of his parents’ ornate oval driveway, uncertain of his welcome for the first time in his life, was Winter’s fault.

      Well, hers and his own uncharacteristic generous streak that had made it impossible to tell her no when she’d asked for the favor that had gotten him in this mess.

      Irritation that he’d been shoved into the middle of Callaway drama threatened to boil over until Caleb had thrown on the brakes. He’d made his own choices. Were they heavily influenced by a beautiful woman? Sure. And if he ever met Winter again, he’d make sure she understood how she’d upended his life.

      For now, dinner.

      “Come on, man. The sooner this begins, the quicker it’s all over, and life goes on, right back on the road to Nashville,” he muttered to himself. Caleb ran a hand down the silk tie he’d added at the last minute, then grabbed his suit coat off the hanger in the back seat. Showing up to his mother’s house for dinner without a jacket would lead to Extreme Displeasure, Caleb’s nickname for the tight-lipped frown Senior often gave him. His stepfather was committed to upholding the family’s stature, and that required dressing for dinner like Victorian royalty.

      Dinner was going to be rough, but the only way back to normal was through the fire. Senior would say he’d changed his mind and could trust no one else with the completion of The Aerie lodge. Caleb would nod in serious understanding while sighing inwardly in relief, and life would go on.

      Before he slid out of the SUV, Caleb judged the distance between his parking spot and the gates at the street. “One minute or less. I could be free.”

      Caleb pulled the keys out of the ignition, stretched out the kinks and slipped on the jacket. Then he noticed the mud on his boots.

      He’d stopped on the way out of Nashville to tour a land parcel with Mitch Yarborough, luxury home developer and father to Caleb’s on-again, off-again girlfriend, Melissa. Caleb could still feel the hard thump of his heart when Mitch had offered him the chance to be the builder of every lot in the gated community. The key words were state of the art, high end and best of the best.

      “Four months.” He had that long to add to his crews in order to be launched into Nashville’s big-time home-construction firms. Was it too soon to tell his stepfather?

      This was the challenge he’d been dreaming of for years. His right hand, Carlos Lopez, was ready to lead his own crew, but meeting payroll after doubling his team would be tough in the beginning. Summit Builders would struggle under the bills. A loan of Callaway cash would make it all easier.

      Tonight wasn’t the right time to ask for money, but it was tempting to spread his good news.

      After a hurried dig through the back seat, Caleb found a brush and did his best to knock the mud off his boots. Would it escape their notice? No way, but at least he wouldn’t leave any evidence behind.

      “Good enough.” Caleb tossed the brush back onto the floorboard and slammed the door. As he rounded the bumper, the front door to the Georgian-style family mansion swung open. Instead of a maid, his mother was framed beautifully by the glowing fanlight and transom windows.

      “I wondered if you were going to come inside or make a break for it.” His mother kissed his cheek as he paused in front of her. The familiar scent of her perfume would always carry him home.