He wept in her arms, and in one anguished sob, she swallowed him up with a love so fierce, their quivering shadow became as one. “Oh, Collin,” she cried, and their bodies clung as her sorrow melded with his. “I’m so sorry! And how I wish I could have met him.” She pressed in even closer. “Did he . . . know?”
His voice was a shell, hollow and still. “No, Evelyn never told him. Her husband Frank adored Tommy. He thought he was his, and Evelyn kept it that way.” Emotion thickened his voice. “I loved him, Faith, and I will never forget him.”
Grief and forgiveness swam in her eyes. “No, my love, and he will never forget you, a father in spirit and flesh when he needed it most. Come to bed, Collin, and take your rest. God’s Word says ‘weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.’”
“Joy . . .” he whispered, his voice an echo of pain, as if he could barely believe it possible.
“Yes, joy, my love,” she said, her voice as sure as the dawn. “The son of your heart is now whole and free, Collin, safe in the arms of our God . . .” She stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his sodden cheek. “Watching, no doubt, over his sisters, to keep them safe in their beds.” And with a steady hold to the bulk of her husband’s back, she took him to the sanctuary of their room.
To pray . . . to sleep . . . and to enter God’s rest.
19
Katie waved and flashed a smile. “Thanks, Meg. See you tomorrow.” She watched her new friend from Portia Law School pull away from the curb, the maroon paint of her daddy’s Model A roadster gleaming in the sun. Katie closed the door and drooped against it with a pile of textbooks in her arms. Her eyes wavered from the stack of mail on the foyer table to the empty parlor and back. The loneliness that had been her constant companion since Luke left over a month ago was as palpable as that of the empty house.
Eyes fixed on the mail, she moved forward like a woman toward a mirage, hope beating in her breast for something to quench this awful ache in her heart. Her breathing quickened as she unloaded her books on the table. She sifted through the letters and bills, fingers shaking with the need for his caress – a note, a letter, anything his hands had touched. The envelopes spilled from her palms back to the table, and she closed her eyes, her hope once again as dry and parched as the most brutal desert. The man she loved was no more than a mirage – his image ever-present and haunting, but as empty and out of reach as the love she’d hoped to have.
Tears pricked and she jerked her gloves and coat off, determined she would survive this final blow from the King of Misery. From start to finish, Cluny McGee had subjected her to pain, the ultimate strike being the joy he had given her and then taking it all away. Well, she vowed with an iron thrust of her chin, she would best the little brat once again. She’d move on with her plans and show him she didn’t care, get on with her life with or without him. She stared at her left hand, so naked without Jack’s ring, and her fury rekindled. The blasted street rat had even ruined that, robbing Katie of all desire to even be in another man’s arms. Oh, how she hated him! She shoved her gloves in her pockets, then hurled her coat on the rack before pressing a shaky hand to her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Oh, how she loved him . . .
Something clattered in the kitchen and Katie looked up. Steven had taken Mother and Father to the doctor and Gabe was spending the night with a friend – who in the world was here? She hurried to the kitchen and pushed through the door, jaw distended at the sight of her sisters. “What in blazes are you three doing?” she asked in a tone still tinged with anger at Luke.
“Nice to see you too, Katie Rose,” Charity quipped, her manicured brow arched high. “Bad day in the courtroom?” Katie shot her a narrow gaze. “Classroom, not courtroom, and I had a good day, why?”
Charity rolled her eyes and finished peeling a carrot. “Mmm, nothing.” She bent close to Lizzie and lowered her voice to a loud whisper. “Remind me to avoid her on bad days.”
“Ignore her, Katie,” Faith said with a smile. She opened the oven to peek in at three whole chickens roasting with potatoes in her mother’s turkey pan, then slammed it shut again.
Wonderful smells assailed Katie’s appetite, reminding her that she hadn’t been interested in lunch again – a frequent occurrence these days.
Faith opened a cabinet to retrieve a stack of plates. “She’s just giddy because she gets a night out while Mitch is saddled with the kids.”
“Amen to that!” Charity said, popping a carrot in her mouth. “Nothing like an evening with Henry – forcing him to do homework, take a bath, go to bed – to make the love of my life truly appreciate me.” She glanced at the clock and grinned. “You mark my words – come nine o’clock, the man will be prostrate at my feet.”
Katie folded her arms. “I’m ecstatic for you, Charity, but you haven’t answered my question. What are you three doing here?”
Worry deepened the violet hue of Lizzie’s eyes as she looked up from the bread she was kneading. “Sean thought it would be fun to surprise Mother and Father with a family dinner like we used to. You know, without all the husbands and kids? He thought it might lift their spirits.” Her tone was edged with concern. “And speaking of spirits, Katie, are you all right? You seem . . . depressed.”
Eager to avoid any probing, Katie tugged the stack of plates out of Faith’s hands and piled utensils on top. “Oh, I suppose I’m a little out of sorts because of breaking up with Jack, but nothing law school and baked chicken can’t cure.” She hurried toward the door, forcing a bright smile. “Goodness, eight in the dining room again and only six drumsticks – could get ugly.” She set the table, then returned to the kitchen where the conversation turned serious.
“How does Sean know they’re in dire straits?” Charity asked quietly. At the stove, she dropped her final carrots into a bubbling pot without a smile, her good humor appearing to evaporate along with the steam from the boiling water.
Faith sighed as she tossed flour into the chicken drippings that would soon be gravy. “He says Mother asked for help with the bills and bookkeeping after all this started with Father. Apparently most of their savings were in the stock market, and we all know what happened there. Without Father’s salary for three months and all the medical bills, it doesn’t look good.”
Expelling a soft blast of air, Charity returned to the table. “No, it doesn’t. And to make matters worse, Mitch says Mr. Hennessey is looking to cut staff. The paper’s profits have dropped dramatically.” Her lips twisted. “Imagine that – nobody wants to read bad news.”
“Nor able to afford it,” Katie said in a dry tone as she plopped into a chair. She paused, then squinted up at Charity. “You don’t think Father’s job is in danger, do you? Or Mitch’s?”
A sheen of moisture glimmered in Charity’s eyes before she whisked the bowl of peelings away. “I don’t know. All I do know is that Mitch was alarmed when Arthur commented about how one editor seemed to be working out just fine.” Charity turned at the sink with a sour smile on her lips. “Of course it’s working out fine – Mitch goes in at the crack of dawn and comes home after eight, totally exhausted. He’s been covering for Father for almost a month now. The poor man falls asleep brushing his teeth.”
“Goodness, then how did you get him home tonight to watch the kids?” Lizzie asked.
“I told him I’d make it worth his while,” Charity said with a wry twist of a smile. “I’ll let him sleep.”
Faith chuckled. “Land sakes, the man must be exhausted.”
Charity sighed. “No more than Collin and Brady, I suppose.” She wriggled her brows in Lizzie’s direction. “Although I imagine John Brady is pretty energetic these days now that the doctor has given you the go-ahead, eh, Lizzie?”
More color whooshed into Lizzie’s cheeks. “Charity, I swear you have a one-track mind. I wish your interest in you-know-what was a little more discreet. And Katie’s here too, so hush!”
“Katie’s all grown up now, Lizzie. I’m sure she understands pe
rfectly well all about the pull between a man and a woman . . .” She arched a brow. “As well as you-know-what.”
“More like imperfectly,” Katie muttered.
Lizzie gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Jack, but the right one is out there for you somewhere.” She released a wistful sigh. “With all that Brady put me through, I never thought it would happen for me, but it did, and it will happen for you too – you’ll find the man of your dreams.”
Tears pricked Katie’s eyes. Yeah, the man of my dreams – too bad he’s married to somebody else. She jumped to her feet. “Tea, anyone?”
“Yes!” Charity and Lizzie chimed in unison.
“Sounds good, Katie,” Faith said, her back to her sisters as she stirred the gravy at the stove. She gave Katie a sideways glance, and her smile faded enough for Katie to notice.
Turning away, Katie blinked to dispel the wetness in her eyes as she filled the kettle.
“But to be honest,” Lizzie continued, “since Evelyn left, both Collin and Brady are working the same kind of hours as Mitch, I’m afraid. And believe me, between that, a jealous two-year-old, and a little girl who likes to exercise her lungs throughout the night, it doesn’t leave much time nor energy for conjugal bliss.”
Katie pulled four cups and saucers from the cabinet and set them on the table. “Evelyn’s gone? When did that happen?”
“Last week,” Faith said quietly. She put the lid on the skillet of gravy and turned down the heat, then rejoined her sisters at the table. “Too many bad memories here in Boston, she said. She and her mother are moving in with her uncle in Maine, to live in a lighthouse, of all places.” A lump shifted in Faith’s throat. “Collin says Tommy would have loved living in a lighthouse.”
Charity squeezed Faith’s arm. “How’s Collin doing?”
A fragile sigh floated from Faith’s lips. “Better, I think. He’s been spending every waking hour at the shop or with the girls, of course, having breakfast with us in the morning, coming home for lunch and even dinner before going back to work with Brady.” She looked up with a sad smile. “Evelyn was a wonder in the office, apparently, and now the two of them are lost, trying to catch up on paperwork.” The kettle began to whistle, and Faith jumped up with a smile to steep the tea. “But not tonight, eh, Lizzie?”
Lizzie grinned. “Nope. It’s kind of fun having them close the shop early for once. I have a feeling after tangling with Teddy when he gets up from his nap, Brady will appreciate his presses all the more.”
Steam rose into the air as Faith poured everyone a cup. She fetched spoons, cream, and sugar, then sat down to sip her tea. “How does Father seem lately, Katie? Has he adjusted to life on the first floor without pipes, radios, or newspapers?”
Katie blew on her tea, then carefully sipped. “Pretty well, actually. Oh, he was bored as the devil the first few weeks, but after Sean repaired the pot-belly stove on the sun porch and Steven dragged all that old furniture up from the basement, Mother actually turned it into a cozy little den that Father seems to love. He’s been doing a lot of reading and writing out there, even working on some editorials for Mitch here and there. Not to mention teaching Gabe how to write. They work together almost every day, and believe it or not, Gabe’s grades in English have gone through the roof.”
A smile softened Faith’s lips, easing the worry lines in her brow. “Oh, I’m glad. Father needs total rest right now to get well. And he’s taking his medicine, so no more attacks?”
A chuckle parted from Katie’s lips. “Nope, no more attacks. He’s taking his medicine faithfully . . . at least since Mother made him swear on the Bible.”
Charity blinked, her cup stalled midway to her lips. “She made him swear? On the Bible?”
Katie nodded and grinned. “And then she tucked him in just like she does Gabe.” Her brows lifted as she gave her sisters a knowing look. “Trust me, it was a rather chilly night on Donovan Street, as I recall.” She blew on her tea again and took a drink, her smile shifting into a frown. “How bad does Sean say it is – their finances, I mean?”
The creases were back in Faith’s brow. “Bad enough that he’s going to ask Father if he can move back in – not because he needs to, mind you, but because he knows they need the rent. He plans to tell Father that Mr. Kelly has cut his hours, which he has, but I know Sean has more than enough saved to stay in his flat for a long time to come.” She shot a nervous look over the rim of her cup. “Providing all the banks don’t default first.”
Katie’s chest tightened. “You don’t really think that could happen, do you? Why, President Hoover is talking of cutting taxes and raising government spending to stimulate the economy. Surely that will help.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Charity said in a grim tone. “Mitch says Hennessey has ordered him to put a positive spin on all the bad news they print, even things like referring to a ‘labor surplus’ instead of calling it ‘unemployment.’” She paused, her eyes fixed on the cup in her hands. “I didn’t say anything before, but trust me – a lot of jobs are in jeopardy.” Her eyes flickered up, and her worry was evident in the hush of her tone. “Including Father’s.”
“That can’t be,” Katie said, her tone laced with shock.
Charity leaned forward. “Don’t you dare breathe a word of this to anyone, especially Mitch, but Hennessey said . . . well, he implied . . . Mitch could have Father’s job if he wanted.”
Faith gasped. “No!”
“Yes, and after almost thirty years at the Herald, Father draws three times the salary that Mitch does, so don’t think that’s not attractive to Hennessey at a time like this. Trust me, loyalty goes out the window when money is involved.”
“What did Mitch say?” Faith’s cup quivered in her hands as she stared, open-mouthed.
“Well, he told him in no uncertain terms that if Father left, he would too.”
“Oh Lord, help us . . .” Faith’s cup clattered back onto her saucer. “I had no idea it was that bad. What did Hennessey say to that?”
“What could he say? He backed off. He knows how close Mitch and Father are.”
“But what if he fires Mitch?” Lizzie asked, chewing on her lip until it was pink.
“Doesn’t matter,” Charity said with a toss of her head. “Mitch is a saver who has put a tidy bundle away, not to mention his inheritance in Dublin that he’s hardly ever touched. And then there’s the store, which is still doing well despite the economy, thanks to Emma.”
Katie stared blindly ahead, the conversation swimming in her brain. Suddenly it all came into focus – Mother taking in laundry and sewing, leftovers three times a week, large family dinners happening less and less. Katie swallowed and closed her eyes. And now Sean talking of moving back home. She shivered, thinking of what a drain law-school tuition would be. With a clank of her cup on the saucer, she shot to her feet. “Well, it looks like you have dinner under control, so I really need to get some studying in before they get home.” She glanced at the clock. “Mother said they’d be late because Dr. Williamson has a brand-new test he wants to run on Father – something called a cardiac stress test.”
“As if Father doesn’t have enough stress already,” Charity mumbled.
Faith pushed her cup away. “Mother didn’t mention when they’d be home, did she?”
Katie glanced at the clock. “She said something about six o’clock or so.”
“Good,” Faith said. “That’s when Sean said he could be here too. It’s five-fifteen now, Katie, so you better hurry if you want to get some studying in before dinner.”
Katie gave Faith’s shoulder a quick squeeze and headed out. “Thanks, guys,” she said, then pushed through the door and vaulted up the stairs, tears stinging.
She closed her door and leaned against it with eyes closed. Fear writhed in her stomach. Her world was falling apart! First Luke, and now her parents. And who knows what that meant for law school. Sobs rose in her throat as she threw herself on her
bed.
She froze at the sound of a knock on the door.
“Katie? Can I come in?” Faith’s voice was a muffled whisper. The door opened quietly and closed once again.
Katie lay still, her face buried in the pillow while she waited for Faith to speak. The bedsprings groaned as her sister sat down, and when Faith touched her shoulder, a sob broke from Katie’s lips. “Faith, what am I going to do?”
“Oh, Katie.” Faith gathered her in a tight hug, her voice low against her ear. “My heart is breaking for you, and I am so sorry. But it’s times like this that strengthen our faith. God says in our weakness, he is strong.”
Katie lurched up to a sitting position, her cheeks sodden with tears. “But I don’t have any faith – not like you. You’ve always focused on God, but I’ve barely ever thought about him.”
A faint smile softened Faith’s lips. “That doesn’t mean he hasn’t thought about you. You own a piece of God’s heart, Katie, like a piece of a puzzle that’s missing. A piece nobody else can fill.”
Katie sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “But I’m angry at him too. I had my life all planned out – a long list that included law school, marrying Jack, and making a difference in the world. Now with this financial crisis, it looks like I’ll probably have to quit school and maybe even get a job, if there’s even a job to be had. I could be selling apples on the corner next week, for all I know.” Her chin began to quiver. “My list and my life are in shambles, and on top of everything else, I’ve lost the man I love . . .”
Pulling her sister into her arms, Faith soothed her with a gentle massage of her back. “Shhh, Katie, hush . . . if you put your life in God’s hands instead of your own, you’ll be amazed at what he will do for you . . . including the man that you love.”
“No . . . no, it’s too late.”
Faith stroked her hair. “Whatever happened between you and Jack, if he’s the man God has for you, it will all work out.”