Page 5 of To Love a Beast

"You've done no such thing." She scooted her chair around the corner of the small table to be near him, then laid her head on his good shoulder as her fingers circled his arm. "This is just a minor setback. God will see us through."

"God doesn't suffer fools, and that's exactly what I've been. Thinking we could make a go of a business reliant on a wealthy clientele when we live on the edge of the frontier."

"Denton is hardly the frontier, Papa." Callista smiled and squeezed his arm. "We have the railroad, several hotels, schools, and churches. This area is growing, and you had the foresight to recognize that. Besides, you didn't bring us out here on a whim. You did it for Mama, to get her out of the smoky air of the cities so her lungs could heal. We had time with her we might not have had otherwise, and I'll never regret that. Neither should you."

"Your sweet mama. What would she say about this mess?" He wagged his head, a small nostalgic smile bringing a touch of light back to his face. "Me breaking my hand on the eve of the biggest job of my career?"

"She would have reminded you that God has everything under control."

He chuckled softly. "You sound just like her."

Callista's heart warmed. She could receive no finer compliment.

Papa fiddled with his teacup, his face growing serious again. Deep lines cut into his brow. "I'll have to write to Mr. Lightfoot." He paused, glanced at the plaster bandages encasing his right hand, and grimaced. "I guess you'll have to write to Mr. Lightfoot. Explain the situation. See if his employer would be willing to delay the project for a few weeks. It's a long shot, but perhaps the Lord will soften his heart."

Callista straightened away from her father, her heart rate accelerating. Papa couldn't write the letter, but she could write it for him. Just as she could travel to Manticore Manor in his place and create the custom library bindings for Mr. Lightfoot's employer. How had she not seen this solution from the outset?

"A letter won't be necessary, Papa."

"We have to try, Callie."

She rose to her feet and paced along the length of the table, her mind scrambling to find arguments her father would accept. "You heard what the doctor said. Your hand needs more than a few weeks. It could be two months before you will be allowed to relinquish the plaster bandages. And after that it could take another month to regain your strength and dexterity. Begging for a few weeks is not enough. If this commission was with a longstanding, loyal client, we might be able to convince them to delay for three months. But a new client we've never worked with before? He'll turn his back on us in a heartbeat and give his business to one of the binders in Houston."

"What do you suggest we do then?" Papa's voice sounded tired. Haggard.

Taking a heartbeat to shoot a wordless prayer heavenward, Callista steeled herself for battle, then turned to face her father. "We send your highly skilled apprentice in your place."

The laudanum must have started to dull Papa's senses for his bushy brows came together in a vee of confusion. "My apprentice? I don't have an apprentice."

"Of course you do." She released her nervous grip on the sides of her white apron and held her arms away from her faded blue skirt. "Me."

Papa's eyebrows shot upward in shock before lowering into a scowl. "Absolutely not. I will not send my daughter into the home of a man I've never met. He could be a scoundrel, a wastrel, an . . . an infidel!"

Callista crossed her arms over her chest as she raised a brow. "Any other -els you want to throw into the mix? What if he's a dangerous pastel enamel spaniel?"

"This is no laughing matter, daughter." He shoved to his feet, his chair scraping the floor with a loud rasp. "I won't risk your safety."

"And I won't stand by and do nothing when I have the power to save you and our business."

Papa straightened to his full height, which was barely an inch above her own. "It's not your responsibility to save the business. It's mine."

"My name's on the door too, you know. Rosenfeld's Bindery is as much mine as it is yours." Callista softened her posture but not her stance. "I love you, Papa. More than anything on this earth. You are my family. You opened the wonders of the world to me through the pages of books, and you've trained me in a craft I'm proud to practice. But I'm not a child anymore. I'm twenty-six. An experienced businesswoman. I can do this."

Papa's shoulders slumped. "It's not your skill I question. It's your safety. If you were a man, things would be different. But you're not. Even if no physical harm touches you, there is still your reputation to consider. A woman traveling alone—"

"Then I won't travel alone. I'll find another woman on the train and adopt her as my chaperone." She breached the small distance between them and touched his shoulder. "You're always praising my cleverness. Let me do this, Papa. For both of us."

"Maybe I could go with you . . ."

Callista shook her head. "We can't afford to close the shop down for the weeks it will likely take to complete this project. It's an entire library, Papa, and from what Mr. Lightfoot describes, quite an extensive one. Someone has to stay behind to fulfill our regular orders. That was the original plan, remember? You and I are just exchanging roles."

His gaze peered deeply into hers before he gave a little shake of his head. "If I say no, you're going to do it anyway, aren't you?"

She'd never been able to hide the truth from him.

Callista shrugged as a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. "Probably."

He cupped her upper arm with his good hand and constricted his grip enough for her to recognize that she needed to pay special attention to whatever came next.