He shot to his feet, his own temper on the rise. “Look, Katie, we’re friends, but I don’t need your permission for what I do with my life.”
“And just exactly what are you doing with your life, Luke? Tell me, as your friend, am I entitled to know that?”
He exhaled and, his head down, worked the back of his neck, his eyes lidded with guilt. “Yes, yes, you are, and I apologize for not telling you and Gabe sooner, but I’ve . . .” He looked up then, facing her square on, determined to get the truth out. “I’ve taken a job in Philadelphia.”
“So I’ve heard. What I haven’t heard is why.”
He stared at the proud lift of her chin and the blue eyes that glinted with anger and more than a little hurt, and a dull ache throbbed in his chest. “Betty’s in trouble. I have to get her out of Boston, so I’m taking her to live with her aunt.” His gaze returned to the document beneath his hand, studying it without really seeing it. He snatched his pen up and signed the bottom line.
“What kind of trouble?” Worry threaded her tone.
He glanced up, unwilling to divulge the depth of Betty’s problems, but well aware of Katie’s bulldog tenacity. “Ex-boyfriend trouble. The slime has a tendency to beat her up.” Concern lighted in Katie’s eyes, and she swallowed again. “So take her and come back.”
“I can’t do that,” he whispered.
“Why?”
“Because she needs me.” He scratched his signature hard and fast, like a blind man with pen and paper, his name as unreadable as the stone expression on Katie’s face.
In the next slash of his pen, she rounded the desk and stood by his side, her hand trembling as it rested on his arm. Shock coursed through him as he looked up to see that indomitable chin start to waver and those steady blue eyes begin to blink with moisture. “I understand, Luke. So take Betty and get her settled in and come back. Because I need you too.”
Something clutched in his chest and he put the pen down and stood, skimming her arms with his hands. “Katie, I’ll visit you and Gabe whenever I can, I promise. Philadelphia’s only a little over five hours away by bus and less than four by train. Besides, I have a feeling you’re going to be so busy with school and the wedding, you won’t even miss me.”
In nervous habit, she scraped her lower lip with her teeth while a tiny wrinkle puckered at the ridge of her brow, actions he’d long become familiar with whenever wheels were turning in her head. All at once, a death knell rang in his brain at the lift of her lashes, revealing a scared and skittish little girl with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. That deadly look of vulnerability that always took him down. A look that jerked a hook in his heart and reeled him in, confirming what he’d always hoped for, prayed for – tough, independent Katie O’Connor needed him, wanted him. The realization pasted his tongue to the roof of his mouth, dryer than dust.
His pulse seized as she slipped tentative arms around his waist, her manner shy, and then took off in a frenzy when she moved forward, her body grazing his. Her eyes held gentle promise, offering gifts he’d only dreamed about. “Luke,” she whispered, “don’t leave me, please. I need you . . .”
Blood pounded in his body like a tide surging through his veins, hot and hungry as her hands drew him close. His breathing was heavy and his reflexes slow and sluggish, as if she had cast a spell, paralyzing him with her touch. In slow motion, her gaze melded to his lips and she slowly lifted on tiptoe to take his mouth with her own.
“Katie, no!” He gripped her arms so tight, she winced, and his body shook as he held her at arm’s length. “I can’t stay! I wish I could, but I can’t.” His voice rushed from his lips, desperate to make her understand. “Betty’s pregnant . . . her ex-boyfriend raped her, and he’ll hurt her if she stays. She’s in serious trouble, Katie, and I can’t let her do this alone.”
Hurt swam in her eyes. “But I’m in trouble too, Luke.” Her hands bent to grasp the arms that held her at bay, thumbs stroking his wrists. “You can’t leave now, please, not when I – ” With a broken sob, she fell against his chest, clasping him tightly as she wept.
“What do you mean you’re in trouble?” He held her away, his pulse pounding in his brain like a painful echo warning of doom. Other than the night he’d taken her father to the hospital, never had he seen Katie O’Connor cry before, but she may as well have lanced him with a knife – he was bleeding all the same.
She looked up then, her body quivering with short, little heaves while tragedy pooled in her eyes. “I . . . I think I’m in love with you, Luke, and I don’t want you to go . . .”
His body went to stone.
“Please say something,” Katie whispered. Her fingers curled against his wrists once again and her eyes begged him to respond as he had once before. But he only stared, his eyes glazed with shock and those wide lips – the lips she longed to kiss – parted with shallow breaths.
He released her too quickly and backed away, eyes steeped in pain. “Katie, I . . . I’m sorry, but everything’s arranged.” A lump shifted in his throat. “We’re leaving on Sunday.”
Fear iced her skin. “But you said you loved me once, told me you wanted me.” Panic rose in her chest, quivering her voice and betraying her alarm. “Was that a lie?”
A nerve pulsed at the edge of his jaw. “No, it wasn’t a lie.”
Terror restricted the flow of her air, making her feel faint. She forced the words from her tongue, frail as they drifted from her lips. “But you . . . you don’t love me like that anymore, is that it?” Her gaze fell to the stretch of floor between them, unwilling to witness the truth in his eyes.
“I can’t answer that.”
Her head jolted up. “You can!” she cried, hysteria tingeing her tone. “Tell me now, Luke – tell me if it’s true. Do you still love me?”
He looked away, shoulders bent. “Yes.”
“Then stay!” she said, every nerve and muscle straining within. She took a step forward, her voice an impassioned plea. “Take Betty to Philadelphia and come back to me, please.”
He stared, breaking her heart with his eyes. “Katie, I can’t.”
“But you can – ” She stepped forward to clutch him with a sob.
His hands were warm when he grasped her arms, but the dread they instilled was as cold as death. “No, Katie, I can’t,” he whispered. “I’m taking Betty to Philadelphia for good . . .” His eyes shimmered with grief as he braced her. “As my wife.”
Her world slowed to a stop, body numb and all air depleted from her lungs. She couldn’t feel her skin or her limbs, only a dull ache in her chest that seemed to grow as his face blurred before her. She was vaguely aware of his hands on her arms, caressing her, comforting her, and her eyes trailed to them in a daze, almost seeing the gold band that would sever their love. She closed her eyes, and her heart reeled at the shock. Luke McGee wed to another – the man who had stolen her friendship and captured her heart, wooed her with prayer and stirred her with passion. A strange buzzing filled her brain, and her tongue was paralyzed, unable to release the agony of her soul.
His wife.
Betty, not her . . . wearing his ring, sharing his bed, bearing his children.
A soul mate lost forever.
She swayed on her feet, and he steadied her, his voice fading in her ears . . .
“Parker!” He picked her up and set her in a chair. Words, distant and faint, pierced her consciousness as her eyelids weighted closed. “Get me a wet rag. She’s white as a ghost.”
Movement . . . hovering . . . voices tugging as something heavy pulled her toward the dark.
“Katie!” Her eyelids flickered open at the touch of cool to her cheek. “Are you okay?”
She licked her lips and struggled to focus, her eyes expanding at the sight of blue eyes that pierced and freckles she now loved. And that was when she knew.
She would never be okay again.
There was nothing more to say. He had wanted to walk her home, but she couldn’t bear it. And so he asked P
arker to take her back instead – to a life now void of Luke McGee. It was all arranged, Parker said – Father Mac was to marry them on Sunday following mass, a simple ceremony with only Parker and Bobbie Sue in attendance. And then Luke and his bride would board their train for Philly, where Luke would start work the next day.
Katie put a hand to her eyes, every step home taking her deeper into an abyss, a dark, gaping hole where she drowned in her own tears, salty with sorrow. She wept for blocks before uttering the phrase that had ruined her life. “I-I l-love him, Parker,” she said with a heave, her voice nasal and her words mere steam that drifted away like her hope into the frigid night air.
“I know, Katie,” he said. His voice girded her with the same tenderness as the strong arm that now braced her, holding her tightly as he led her through the dark. “And he loves you.”
“Then, why?” The warmth of that awful word billowed into the November night to die in the cold.
Parker’s answer was spoken with kindness, but its meaning was cruel. “Luke knows the pain of an illegitimate birth, Katie . . . He’s determined Betty’s baby will not.” He paused then, perhaps hesitant to add to her grief. His grip tightened, as if to prop her to hear the truth. “And he felt he had nothing to lose since you were to marry Jack.”
An icy gust slapped her hair across her face. She stared at the diamond on her finger, its gleam as cold as the shivers that traveled her spine. The wind whistled through the trees, and its eerie sound seemed to mock her for the fool that she’d been. She took the ring off and dropped it into her pocket with a violent shudder. “Nothing to lose . . . ,” she said quietly, a chasm of grief splitting her heart. “Except a cherished piece of our souls.”
They walked in silence for a while, until Parker broke it with a monotone voice, low and edged with intent, as if pleading her case to a jury. “Don’t blame yourself, Katie. Luke has other demons to wrestle as well.”
She gave him a sideways glance, his sculpted jaw blurred through her tears. “Like what?”
He tightened his hold around her shoulders. “Like guilt.” His eyes met hers. “You know anything about Luke and Betty’s past?”
She shook her head.
“Well, they’ve been like blood since they met on the streets of New York almost seven years ago, two throwaway kids with no family of their own, or at least any who cared.”
Katie sniffed. “But what about Betty’s aunt? Doesn’t she care?”
“Yeah, she’ll give them a roof for a while, but not for long, and Luke knows that. And the last thing he wants is for Betty to find herself on the streets again. He feels too responsible.”
“But, why? She’s a friend, not a responsibility.”
His low chuckle echoed in the air, the sound too harsh for Parker. “Yeah, well, with Luke, it’s one and the same, I’m afraid. And like I said, there’s the guilt. She was a sister to him, although that changed for Betty as they got older. And one night a few years back, she proved it, when both she and Luke were too drunk to care – she slept with him.”
Katie’s breath caught in her throat.
“Luke felt awful, but guilty too, enough to keep the relationship the way it was for a few months, hoping it would work. But it didn’t because he wanted her as a sister, not a lover, so he broke it off, both their intimacies and their friendship. It nearly killed them both, of course, but especially Betty. Which is why scum like Leo was able to draw her in so easily. And when Leo found out she was carrying Luke’s baby – ”
“No!” Katie stopped, her feet grafted to the sidewalk in shock.
Parker squeezed her again and started walking, tugging her along. “I’m afraid so. Even though she and Luke finally patched up their relationship, Luke could see that Leo was no good for her, but Betty refused to leave him. You can imagine how Luke felt when he discovered Leo was not only beating up on Betty, but that he’d caused her to miscarry a baby – a baby Luke didn’t know was his until two years later. Suddenly protecting Betty, making it up to her, became the most important thing in his life. You see, Katie, family is everything to Luke. He’s never had any to speak of except Betty, Brady, and me.”
“How . . . did it happen – this pregnancy?” Her tongue was thick in her throat, as if reluctant to pursue the truth. She swallowed hard. “I know it was Leo, but how . . . when?”
Parker’s sigh swirled up and away into the cold, cold night. “It was Luke’s turn to pick her up from Robinson’s that night – she worked there some evenings, you know, which is why Luke was jerking sodas the night you two met – he was filling in for her. Apparently Roberta – Leo’s cousin that we met that night at Kearney’s – told her friend Dot all about Leo and Betty. Unfortunately, Dot has a thing for Leo and used the information as a means of getting him down here. He came to town then with the intention of getting back with Betty, only she turned him down.” His voice hardened considerably. “So he raped her.” Parker’s voice, suddenly so foreign, made her shiver. “And unfortunately, Luke, who usually has a phobia about being on time, was actually late for once in his life.”
“Why, God? Of all nights, why then?” she whispered, not really expecting an answer.
The hand on her arm tightened while the pressure of his thumb grazed back and forth as if to numb the pain of his words. “Because,” he said, his voice so low she barely heard it, “he was with you that night, Katie, the night he told you he loved you.”
A gasp shuddered in Katie’s throat, and her body froze to the spot. Tears welled in her eyes as a hand flew to her mouth. “No, please . . .”
Parker pulled her close. “I only tell you, Katie, to let you know – guilt had Luke by the throat, and in his mind, he has no choice but to marry Betty.”
She felt depleted when they finally arrived at her house, as if her grief had robbed her of all sensation, all energy, all hope. Parker quietly opened the gate and walked her to her porch, his arm steady and solid around her shoulder. At the door he reached into his pocket and handed her his handkerchief, watching her through tender eyes as she blew her nose.
With a final sniff, she gave him a weak smile. “I’ll wash this and get it back to you.”
“I have more,” he said softly, studying her with concern. “Anytime you need them.”
She nodded and looked up, finally seeing the man whose losses were as great as hers. She placed a trembling palm to his cheek and blinked to clear the blur from her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Parker – your hurt must be as deep as mine.”
He cupped a warm palm over hers, pressing her hand to the bristle now shadowing his jaw. “Not quite, Katie, but it’s there.”
Her lips trembled. “Oh, Parker, what are we going to do?”
He blinked, and she saw a glint of moisture before he pulled her to his chest and rested his head against hers. “We’re going to pray, Katie – for Luke, for Betty, and for ourselves. And we’re going to survive and move on. And do you know how I know?”
She shook her head, her cheek rubbing against the rough weave of his coat. The low timbre of his voice was gentle and kind and sure – like the man who now stroked her hair.
“Because God answers prayer,” he whispered, “and he takes care of his own.” He kissed the top of her head and opened the door. “I’ll be praying for you, Katie. And if you ever need a shoulder to cry on – or anything – you know where I am. Good night.”
“Good night, Parker.” She slipped inside and closed the door, tears welling anew.
“Katie? Is that you?”
Her heart skipped a beat. The anxiety in her mother’s words drove every other thought from her mind. She rushed into the parlor, alarmed to see her father dressed in his pajamas at this early hour and lying on his bed. “What is it? Is Father all right?”
“I’m fine, Katie Rose, just tired,” her father said in a voice that confirmed his weariness.
Marcy’s eyes sought hers, clouded with worry. “He had another incident tonight.”
“Marcy, it was probably
just heartburn – ”
“You had pains in your chest for almost five minutes, Patrick, you were dizzy and sweating and couldn’t catch your breath – that’s not heartburn.”
Katie rushed to the side of his bed, her manner as nervous as Marcy’s. “Did you do something, Father? Attempt the stairs, smoke your pipe?”
Marcy’s tone was stern, in stark contrast to the gentle quiver of her hand against his brow. “He bribed Gabe to give him the newspaper after I went upstairs to ready her bath. The next thing I know, she’s flying up the stairs screaming that he was having another attack.”
“I tell you, I’m fine – ” The gray pallor of his cheeks defied the truth of his words.
“You’re not fine!” she shrieked. Tears pooled in her eyes as she worked to soften her tone. “Your heart is weak right now, Patrick, and you refuse to take that seriously.”
“I do take that seriously – ”
“No – you don’t! Did you take your pill today?”
His lips gummed into a straight line.
“Have you even taken it any day this week?”
His jaw, dark with stubble, hardened along with his voice. “I tell you, I don’t need it – ”
“You do need it!” Her fist slammed the bed, jostling his leg. “Am I to be your warden every minute of every day? Is your love so insignificant you refuse to see how this destroys me?”
“Marcy, I’m sorry – the pill makes me dizzy and restless, and I didn’t need it before.”
“Well, you need it now, and if you don’t start following the doctor’s orders, it will kill me as well as you.” She started to cry, and he attempted to rise from the bed, his face pale from the effort. She pressed him back with a firm hand. “No! You will not rise from this bed tonight unless you need to use the bathroom, is that clear?” She shot Katie a look tempered with steel. “Katie, get me the family Bible from the bookcase, please.”
Katie handed the book to her mother, and Marcy laid it on Patrick’s chest. She jerked his hand up and placed it on top. “Swear to me now, Patrick, before God and your daughter that you will take your medication every day for the rest of your life . . . that you will not use the stairs, exert yourself with any undue activity, smoke your pipe, listen to the news or read the paper – ”