Heart of Clay (6 page)

Clay stepped up to the counter and Callan
saw him. He managed to stutter out a request for her to join him on
a walk and, amazingly, she agreed. Her aunt gave her a smile and a
nudge before sending them on their way.

As they strolled along the promenade, he
couldn’t help but notice how beautiful inside and out Callan seemed
to be. She was so easy to talk to as well as friendly, polite, and
funny. From what he observed, she had no idea how attractive she
looked or that her graceful walk drew many interested glances.
Instinctively, he knew she was innocent, sweet, and genuine. On top
of that, every time she looked at him, it made his stomach feel
odd, his heart pound wildly, and gave him the strangest tingling
feeling. He’d definitely never before had that experience with a
girl.

After seeing Callan eye a trinket at one
booth, he bought it for her, surprised at how grateful she seemed
over the silly thing. When they arrived back at the ice cream booth
to find everyone gone, Clay offered to escort her to her car.

On the way to her car, he tried to think of
some witty way of asking her out, but nothing came to mind. He felt
like the biggest dolt. He held her car door for her. Callan got in
and agreed to see him tomorrow if he stopped by. Just as he turned
to walk away, he felt her hand on his and it sent tremors all the
way to his toes. He wondered if she felt it, too.

Callan thanked him again for the trinket
then drove off with his heart.

Clay closed the door on his memories as he
pulled into one of the last parking spaces at the mall. He hated
shopping and especially disliked shopping during the busy Christmas
season. Curious how there could be so many people at the mall this
early in the day, he decided suffering through the crowds would be
worth it if he could find a special gift for Callan.

Although she used to love Christmas, the
past few years had been different. She ran the holidays like
another event instead of a personal celebration. Admittedly, it was
a hard time of year for her.

Three years ago, they had to have their dog
put down just a few weeks before Christmas. On the heels of that,
Callan’s mother was diagnosed with cancer. Margo barely lasted into
January. Callan and her mom were never close, but he knew it was
tough on her to lose her mother. He assumed that was what started
Callan in her downward spiral. He hoped that she had reached the
bottom and was ready to climb back up to a happier future.

Clay strolled into the mall, shaking his
head at the hordes of shoppers. He shed his coat and wandered into
a gift shop called On a Lark, owned by Callan’s friend Laken. He
didn’t know it the day he’d first seen Callan, but Laken had been
the girl walking with her across the campus.

Laken’s infectious laughter rang through the
store from her spot behind the counter where she rang up customers.
When she glanced up, she caught Clay’s eye and gave him a wide
smile. With a raised index finger, she signaled that she’d be with
him in a minute.

He studied some holiday displays while
waiting for Laken to finish the sale. Before the next customer
stepped up to the counter, she called one of her staff away from
stocking a shelf to take over the register. She hurried up to Clay
and gave his arm a squeeze.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Clay?”
Laken asked, smiling up at him. “You wouldn’t be shopping for
Callan, would you?”

“Possibly.” Clay knew Laken already had a
few things in mind that he should buy.

“You better put that coat behind the counter
and prepare to whip out your hard-earned money.” Laken tugged the
coat out of his hands, handing it to one of her sales girls to set
behind the counter and headed toward the back of the store.

A short while later, Clay left his coat and
purchases with Laken. She offered to wrap Callan’s gifts while he
finished his shopping.

He entered one of the new clothing stores
he’d heard advertised on the radio but wasn’t impressed. When a
young sales girl leaned against him inappropriately not once but
twice, he exited the store, disgusted. He could never understand
why some women assumed all men were interested in short skirts and
tops that were too tight. The only woman who held his interest also
held his heart, just like she had for the last thirteen years.

Clay made his way to Callan’s favorite
clothing store and quickly surmised the courteous sales woman would
be a great help in finding a gift for his wife. Callan had made
off-handed comments about not being pleased with her appearance. He
thought she looked as amazing now as she had the first day he’d
seen her.

She still had long legs
that went on forever and a small waist. The only difference he
could see from when they first married was that her curves were
fuller.
Maybe I need to tell her I think
she is even more beautiful now than she was as my young
bride.
Clay tucked the notion away to
explore later before continuing his shopping.

With the help of the sales clerk, he chose a
beautiful green silk blouse that would bring out the emerald
sparkle in Callan’s eyes. He hoped she would like it. At least it
would go with all the black she insisted on wearing. He didn’t know
if she’d taken being professional to an unhealthy level or was just
stuck in a rut. Either way, he wished she’d put some color back
into her wardrobe and her life.

As he sat in the food court, drinking a Dr.
Pepper and ignoring a group of giggling high school girls desperate
to get his attention, he came upon the idea for the perfect gift
for Callan. Eager to get started on it, he dropped his cup into the
trash, gathered his purchases, and returned to Laken’s store. He
needed to make a few more stops before he enlisted his mom’s help
with the project.

“You look like the cat that ate the canary,”
Laken said as he walked up to the counter. “What’s up?”

“I just thought of the perfect gift for
Callan and I need to get busy on it,” Clay said, in an obvious
hurry to get out of the mall and onto his idea for Callan’s
gift.

Laken set the gifts he’d already purchased,
all neatly wrapped and in a fancy bag, on the counter. “Well, are
you going to share the details? Spill the beans, already!”

Clay grinned at her as he shrugged into his
coat. “Nope. You two are incapable of keeping secrets from each
other.” He picked up his bags and started out of the store. “Thanks
again, Laken. You were a big help. See you Christmas Day.”

After quick stops at the craft store and the
office supply store, Clay drove out to the ranch.

He pulled into the drive, excited to tell
his mom about his idea. A blast of warmth hit him in the face as he
walked inside the house, carrying in all his purchases.

“Mom? Are you home?”

“In here, Clay,” Bobbi answered from the
kitchen. “I need a taste-tester and your dad is down at the
shop.”

Clay entered the kitchen to find every
counter surface covered in cookies, cookie dough, and cookie
sheets. After placing his packages on the floor by the table, he
removed his coat, washed his hands, and snatched a gingerbread
cookie off a cookie sheet just out of the oven. Juggling the hot
cookie from one hand to the other and blowing on it, he took a huge
bite. The entire cookie was gone with the next bite.

He poured a glass full of cold milk, sat at
the counter, and ate another cookie. Bobbi plopped dough onto a
cookie sheet.

“The cookies pass muster,” Clay said, taking
a sugar cookie and smiling sweetly at his mom.

“Good to know.” Bobbi shook her head at her
son and his antics. For being such a big man, he often acted like
an ornery little boy. She glanced at him as she dropped cookies on
the sheet and noticed he looked rather pleased with himself. “What
are you up to today?”

Clay laughed and told Bobbi about forgetting
he didn’t have to work and going shopping instead. “I’ve got an
idea for a great present for Callan, but I need some help with it.
Would you be willing?”

Bobbi smiled at him then turned to take a
sheet of cookies from the oven. “Sure, honey. Can you come over
tomorrow or do you want me to come to your house?”

“No, I’ll come here. That way I know Callan
will be surprised.” He shared his ideas for the gift and Bobbi gave
him some good input.

“Can I leave the rest of Callan’s presents
here? I don’t want her to accidentally find them.”

Bobbi nodded as she frosted sugar cookies
shaped like trees and topped them with green and red sprinkles.
“Put them in your old bedroom. You can pick them up when you come
for Christmas Eve dinner.”

Clay set the gifts in the bedroom then
returned to the kitchen. He emptied his glass of milk, set it in
the sink, and pulled on his coat then kissed Bobbi’s cheek. “See
you tomorrow. Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime, Clay.” Bobbi set another sheet of
cookies in the oven. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, Mom.” Clay grabbed a handful
of cookies to go. “Bye.”

On the way out to his pickup, as he munched
on cookies, Clay wondered if his parents ever hit any rough patches
in their marriage. They always seemed happy. He supposed to the
casual observer, he and Callan seemed happy as well. He was
determined for them both to get back to being happy.

He barely made it in the door at home when
his cell phone rang. The ringtone announced it was Callan. Since
she rarely called him, he immediately worried something was wrong.
In an attempt to hide his concern, he dropped his voice to a
seductive growl as he answered her call. “Hi, beautiful.”

“Hi, yourself.”

The smile in her voice carried through her
words. She seemed to be in a good mood. After the past months of
enduring her frosty distance, he wasn’t sure what to think.

“What’s up?” Clay asked as he shrugged out
of his coat and tossed it across the couch, followed by his hat.
He’d pick them up before Callan got home. It always annoyed her to
find his stuff sprawled all over the house.

“Thank you so much for this morning. I
really appreciated you leaving everything out for breakfast and for
cleaning off my car, and for shoveling and sanding the walk, and
for last night and for…”

Her rambling meant she wasn’t focused on
work. She hadn’t done that in a very long time. Pleased, he
interrupted her. “Callan, it was my pleasure. Are you sore today?
You’re doing okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Just clumsy.”

Clay wasn’t convinced she was fine, but
Callan continued with the point of her call. “I wanted to let you
know how much I appreciated everything. Also, I couldn’t remember
if I told you I have an event tonight, so I’ll be home late. This
is the last evening event until New Year’s Eve.”

“No, you hadn’t mentioned it. I know you’re
really busy this week, though.” Although he was thoroughly
disappointed she wouldn’t be home for dinner, at least she’d called
to thank him for the effort he put forth that morning. If he wasn’t
mistaken, a warm front seemed to be moving in where she was
concerned and he planned to have her all to himself as soon as she
left work. “Where is the event?”

“It’s here at the center, which makes it
easier on me. I only have to stay until things get rolling, so I
should be out of here by seven or so.” Callan cleared her throat,
sounding a little nervous. “Would you like me to bring something
home for dinner?”

“No, don’t worry about dinner. I’ll take
care of it,” Clay said, as he began planning a surprise.

“Are you sure?” Callan sounded wary.

Clay grinned. She probably envisioned the
newly scrubbed kitchen turning into the disaster area it did
anytime he cooked. She was in for a surprise, though. A big
surprise.

“Yep, I’ve got it under control.” Clay
rapidly sketched out details for the evening in his mind.

“Oh, no. Arty’s wandering toward one of the
conference groups. I need to run interference.” Callan’s words
spilled out in a rush. Clipped, hurried footsteps on the tile floor
of the center echoed in the background. “Thanks again, Clay. See
you tonight.”

Blast Arty. Clay had no doubt he’d have
Callan wound up and back into all business mode in a matter of
minutes.

He left his phone on his coat and went to
sit in his recliner. There was time for a nap before he needed to
put his plan into action. If things went like he wanted, he needed
to be rested up for an evening with his wife.

An hour later, Clay awoke. He polished his
best pair of boots, brushed off his black sports coat, and dug a
royal blue shirt out of his closest. Callan once said the shirt
made his eyes look like liquid pools of blue. He was sure that
meant she liked it…a lot. Since he needed all the help he could
get, he’d use any ploy or trick at his disposal.