Bitter Eden by Sharon Anne Salvato Page A

their curiosity about Callie further.

    Naturally reserved and not given to exaggeration, he amazed his family as he went into great gesturing detail describing her sweetness, her charm, and the dark blue eyes that he was unable to do justice. All he could say was that they were blue, and he tried by gesture and inadequate words to tell what feelings and emotions those eyes could impart without so much as the twitch of a facial muscle.
    "I think our Callie has found her first admirer," Anna said with a tolerant, knowing smile on her face.
    Several others in the room laughed as Stephens face grew pink.
    Peter remained silent, his eyes downcast, remembering what he had seen expressed by Callie's deep blue eyes. "Shame be on you," Mrs. Pettibone had said to him. He wondered if ever he would feel anything but shame when he looked at Callie. He knew he would feel it as long as it took him to make up to her in some way for the fright he had given her.
    Meg looked at the staircase. "She should be down by now. Do you think I ought to go up and see what is keeping her?"
    "The men are hungry after a long day's work," Rosalind said. "She might have given them a little thought. She's been here one day and already has the whole family dancing to her tune." She looked at Peter.
    Peter glanced up, his dark brown eyes asking her not to complain further. "She'll be here soon."
    Meg gestured helplessly. Nearly in unison the Be-reans closed ranks against the complainer.
    "I'd like a good mug of cider before supper," Frank said, getting to his feet and ringing for the maid. "Anyone care to join me?"
    "I would like some."
    "Oh, Nattie, dear, you know cider always goes

    straight to your head," Meg said. "Why don't you have the apple juice? There is some ready for her, isn't there, Stephen? See, dear, Stephen makes it especially for you. Don't disappoint him by not drinking it. You'll like it better. Talk to her, Albert."

Albert smiled indulgently at Meg, then looked proudly at Natalie. Petite and delicately flowerlike, Natalie gave Albert a sense of protective masculinity he'd never known before he met her. His mother, a woman nearly indistinguishable from the blooded horses she rode so masterfully, had ridden her son all his life. The only other woman with whom he'd associated closely was Rosalind, and she, with her vixen body and her insatiable hunger, could turn him to molten steel, burning and puddling at her touch. Only with Natalie was he man, master, god. "I'll take care of her," he said softly.
    Peter gave him an acid glance, then took Natalie's hand. "Let her have the cider, Ma. Nattie's "no baby anymore. It's time we all treated her like the woman she is." Natalie stroked his arm and to his dismay leaned against him, her expression that of a grateful, small child.
    "She hasn't been a baby for twenty years," Rosalind murmured. "Go ahead, Natalie, by all means, have your cider and maybe for once you can prove what a big girl you are to all of us."
    "We don't need bickering and teasing in the family tonight, Rosalind. We shall all show Callie our better side," James warned, and accepted the mug Frank held out to him.
    Callie could hear the sounds coming from the parlor. For some time she had been standing near the staircase trying to sort out the voices and gather the courage to enter the room. She heard Meg mention a

    second time that she should be downstairs, and she knew she couldn't put it off any longer.
    It wasn't as bad as she expected. None of them stared as she thought they might. She accepted their friendly greetings, was warmed and heartened as each family member expressed his welcome. Except Peter. His eyes remained fixed on his hands resting in his lap. Callie walked hastily past him, then furtively glanced back to catch his deep, almost-black eyes studying her.
    James didn't give her a chance to react. Hurriedly but tactfully he escorted her to his study, "for a talk," he said. "I have had years to get to know my other