Page 38 of To Love a Beast

Mrs. Potter laughed softly. "Of course!"

Callista tore away the paper and lifted the lid. She glanced over at the housekeeper, her eyes wide. "Mrs. Potter . . ." Her words failed and she blinked several times as if fighting off tears.

"Go on, dearie. I know how much you admire it."

"But . . . your grandmother's teacup? This is a family heirloom. I couldn't possibly . . ."

His housekeeper squeezed Callista's hand. "You can, and you will. I have no children of my own to pass it on to, so when I'm gone it will likely just get lost in the back of a china cabinet somewhere, or worse yet, be thrown away because of its imperfections. But in your care, I know it will be treasured and appreciated."

Everett tried to peer into the box to see the object that had produced such sentiment. Callista must have noted his curiosity for she lifted the teacup and held it up for him to see. A delicate white cup rimmed in gold. Rather plain except for the gold wreath painted around the inside of the brim and the gold band around the foot. A small chip marred the top edge of the cup, making it impractical for drinking purposes, yet Mrs. Potter had deemed it important enough to cart all the way to Texas with her.

Callista wrapped it in the small towel that had been placed in the box for padding and replaced the lid. "I will take excellent care of it. I promise." She reached for her new handkerchief and began dabbing her eyes.

Everett slapped his palms onto his thighs and ran them down toward his knees. "I suppose I'm next."

Callista turned bright eyes to him, and his stomach twisted. He prayed she wouldn't be disappointed.

"I'm not sure I can compete with heirlooms and mechanical wizardry, but I have a couple humble offerings to present."

"More than one?" Callista raised her brows. "Goodness. I've already received such an abundance of blessings. You all are far too generous."

Callista deserved to be showered with more blessings than she could fathom. Birthdays, Christmases, random Tuesdays. Anniversaries. The tempting notion caught him unaware, nearly causing him to stumble as he strode across the room to where he'd hidden his first gift in a shadowed recess along the side wall. Thankfully, the stumble didn't turn into a full topple. However, it did serve the purpose of focusing his mind back on the matter at hand.

Collecting the easel, and taking care not to disturb the blue velvet cloth draped over the canvas, he carried it back to where the others waited. Callista had scooted forward to perch on the edge of her seat, her hands braced on the chair arms.

Her indrawn breath sent his pulse into an erratic rhythm.

"Oh." The word emerged like a sacred whisper. "Is this what I think it is?"

Not trusting his throat to open enough to let words pass through, Everett answered by removing the draped cloth with a flourish.

Callista gasped slightly, then rose to her feet and moved toward the portrait as if drawn by an unseen force. The others stood as well and approached, seeking a closer view.

Lightfoot broke the silence first. "Well done, Griff." He slapped Everett's back with his good arm. "You captured her essence perfectly."

"I agree, sir," Timens said. "Excellent work."

Everett nodded to the men, appreciative of their praise, yet waiting for the one who mattered most to render a verdict.

He'd spent hours on the details, desperate to get everything just right. An impossible task. For the more time he spent in her company, the more beautiful she became to him. A beauty too deep for paint to capture.

"I don't know what to say." Her voice trembled slightly, and he prayed it wasn't from disappointment. She turned to him. Her mist-filled eyes glimmered in the lamplight. "It's extraordinary." She wiped at one eye even as a smile arrived to brighten Everett's heart. "Though I still think you painted your model in much more flattering terms than she deserved."

Everett shook his head, her genuine humility as rare as her beauty. "I simply paint what I see."

"I don't know about that," she teased. "I own no yellow dress, yet somehow I'm wearing an elegant gown of sunshine."

"Well, that leads me to the second gift." And a gut full of tangled knots. He tipped his head toward Mrs. Potter, who had retrieved the large box from beneath the sofa while everyone had been looking at the painting. "I'm afraid we broke the rules on this one, but only a little. Everyone contributed something unique to bring it together."

Callista looked to the box then back up at him. "What did you do?" she whispered.

He shrugged, hoping she'd not guess how much of his heart resided in that box. "Only one way to find out."

Mrs. Potter laid the long box on the sofa cushions then motioned for Callista to seat herself next to it. She moved slowly, almost as if she were afraid the gift would vanish if she didn't sneak up on it. After gingerly lowering herself to the sofa, she took the package upon her lap and reached for the bow made of golden ribbon that stretched across its middle. She cast a tentative glance his way, as if unsure it was appropriate for her to accept whatever was inside. It probably wasn't, but he prayed she'd accept it anyway. Out of friendship if nothing else.

As she untied the bow, everyone crowded around. The lid came off next, and then she pulled apart the paper inside. He could tell the moment she saw it. Her eyes widened, her mouth trembled, and her breath caught.

"Everett . . . I mean, Mr. Griffin . . . I can't . . . It's too much . . . I . . ."