His raspy chuckle vibrated against her cheek, the sound buoying her with hope. "You have it, darlin'. Now, more than ever."
Mitch stared out the window of his office, his eyes glued to the red glow of dusk staining the city skyline, lingering with its varying shades of gloom. He sighed. Another day behind. One step closer to getting on with his life. He crossed his arms and leaned back, resting his head on the chair, letting his mind go numb. Not that it took any effort.
Numb was what he did best these days, at least since he'd sailed from Boston. The trip had been excruciating. Seven days of tossing and turning, both in his mind and in the ship, leaving him with a sickness in his gut that rivaled the flu. He closed his eyes. He was sick, all right. Sick with despair, loneliness, hurt. And the only remedy his body and soul craved was a lost little girl who was sheer poison to his system. A poor antidote to love betrayed.
He sucked in a deep breath and opened his eyes. It was time to move on. He'd done it before; he'd do it again. Only this time Kathleen would be there to soften the blow. She hadn't said a word about Charity since he returned, other than welcoming him back like all the others. After a few minutes of ribbing over the way he had left, Michael had been ecstatic and Bridie, belligerently beaming. According to Michael, Rigan Gallagher had disappeared from the face of the earth, his father apparently none the wiser as to the reason why. Even Jamie had been ready to turn the reins back over, preferring the comfort of his old job to the demands of management. A faint smile crossed Mitch's lips. It was good to be loved. Even if it wasn't the kind he was looking for at the moment.
"Mitch?"
He spun around in the chair, heat slinking up the back of his neck. "Kathleen, I was just thinking of you."
It was her turn to blush, albeit much prettier than his. She dipped her head and smiled, bonded to the side of the door like epoxy. "I finished your report. Is there anything else you need before I go?" She uttered the words, then looked down at her feet with a fresh whoosh of red at the way it had sounded.
He grinned. "Thanks for staying. That's one less headache for Michael in the morning."
She nodded and backed away. "Well, then, good night."
"Wait."
She startled.
He laughed. "I mean, why don't you stay? Talk a while."
Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath before she made her way to the chair in front of his desk. With a timid smile, she sat on the edge.
He smiled and leaned an elbow on his desk to prop his chin in his hand. "I'm not going to bite, you know. I don't believe I ever did."
She glanced up, a definite smile on her lips. "No, not that I recall. Thanks for leaving the letter of encouragement. I read it almost every night."
"Thanks for your prayers. I felt them."
Her eyes glowed. "I'm glad. I pretty much kept a constant vigil." She focused on her hands, knotted in her lap. "Especially when I knew you were on the ship."
He scratched his head and leaned back. "Yeah, well, the ship was fine. It was nearing Boston where the problems began."
She looked up. "What do you mean?"
"It's a long story, but the sum of it is that I asked Charity to marry me."
He heard her catch her breath, the shock evident in her eyes. "Oh .. .
"Because I thought Rigan raped her and she was pregnant."
"Oh."
"But she lied."
Kathleen swallowed hard. "Oh?"
"Yeah. So I hightailed it out of there. But I wanted you to know that it was a close call."
She seemed to teeter on the edge of the chair. "How close?" she whispered.
Heat collared his neck. "Very."
"You're still in love with her, then?"
He stared at her. "Yes, but I have no intention of doing anything about it. Other than falling in love with you."
She looked down again and began picking at her nails. "And how do you propose to do that?"
"By courting you like I should have years ago. If you'll let me."
She continued to fidget, her eyes fixed on her fingers, but a semblance of a smile flickered across her lips. "As if I could stop you once you've made up your mind."
"I have."
Her gaze locked with his. -1 won't marry a man in love with someone else. But I can try to help you get over her."
"That's all I'm asking. That and to be my wife when the time is right."
She rose to her feet and moved toward the door, giving him a shy smile over her shoulder. "Well, then, I suppose I could use a ride home."
"So, how's the invalid today?" Faith poked her head in the kitchen with a smile.
Charity continued to peel the potato in hand. "One week and counting until the cast comes off, and the doctor says I'll be good as new." She flashed a wry grin. "I guess there's no need to ask how you're doing with that sparkle in your eye."
Faith chuckled as she sauntered to the sink to get a drink. She shot a grin over her shoulder. "Marriage is even better than I thought." She sighed and leaned against the counter, filling a glass with water. "That man is amazing."
"Yeah, we O'Connor women have great taste in men." Charity's eyes glinted as she leaned forward. "So, tell me ... how was it?"
Faith blushed and gulped a large swallow of water. "I told you, marriage is good."
Charity quirked a brow. "Not marriage, 'it.' Come on, Faith, give. I have no one else to ask, and I'm dying to know. Is sleeping with Collin wonderful?"
Faith chugged the rest of her water and set the glass down. She pulled a knife from the drawer and hurried over to sit. Her face was bright red. "Charity, hush! Keep your voice down." She plucked a potato from the bowl and began peeling, her eyes suddenly serious. "That's a very private thing, you knowbetween a husband and wife. And something that you will find out for yourself someday." Her eyes took on a faraway look as she stared at the potato in her hand. A soft smile curved on her lips. "But take my word for it, when the Bible says two shall become one flesh, it's a bonding of human souls unlike anything in this world. Not only physically, but when you truly love someone and God's in the middle, spiritually and emotionally too." She looked up and grinned. "What can I say? Collin's amazing. I'm crazy about the man." She sliced a long peel of skin from the potato, then cleared her throat to quickly change the subject. "So, enough about me ... how are you doing today?"
Charity scrunched her nose and sliced a long curl. "Today's better than most. Maybe because I know I'm getting this albatross off my leg." She smiled. "But probably because I've cleared the air with you and Father."
Faith grimaced and stuck her thumb in her mouth. "Ouch! Stupid knife."
Charity grinned. "Yeah, I got the good one."
Faith's lips creased into a tolerant smile. "Guess the air's not completely cleared."
"Nope. Some things will never change. The good knife is mine."
Faith hesitated, then flicked a peel into the bowl. "Have you thought ... about dating?"
Charity laughed. "No."
"I mean it. It would do you good to get out there again. Wouldn't take long. Never did."
Charity glanced up. "Maybe not, but you're the one who got her man."
"You will too." She assessed her through narrowed lids. "Care to pray about it?"
Charity stabbed a large potato to cut it in half. "Just because I cleared the air with you and Father doesn't mean I cleared it with God. I know it's basically my fault, but I'm a bit mad at him for Mitch leaving in the first place." The knife sliced cleanly through, meeting the cutting board with a loud clack. She looked up. "Him and Collin."
Faith cocked her head, apparently measuring her response. "You can't blame Collin. He thought you told him, and so did 1. Besides, he feels awful."
"Good."
"I think you would have learned by now that nothing good comes from holding a grudge."
Charity stuck her nose in the air. "Yes, I have, but I reserve the right to give Collin a piece of my mind before I forgive him. If I forgive h
im."
Faith shook her head. "What about God? You gonna continue to hold a grudge against him too? He only wants the best for you."
Charity gave Faith a thin stare. "Really? Well, he had the perfect opportunity with Mitch."
Faith sighed. "You are one of the most stubborn people I know."
Charity reached for the crutch that was leaning against the table. "Thank you. It's a trait that I hope will serve me well in the next month."
Faith looked up. "What do you mean by that?"
"Simply that mule-headed Dennehy has met his match." Charity stood, leaned on the crutch, and toddled to the sink to wash her hands. She nodded toward a pot on the counter. "Mind putting those potatoes in there for me?"
Faith reached for the pot, then clutched it to her chest. "What are you going to do?"
Charity lifted her chin. "Get him back. In the same way I got him in the first place."
"What, by lying?"
"Nope, I'm done with that. He can't abide women who lie."
Faith shook her head. "Then how?"
Charity arched a brow. "Seduction, pure and simple. The man is putty in my hands. Once I get him there, that is."
"There's nothing pure about seduction. And Mitch isn't looking for a woman like that."
"No, he isn't. But somehow he forgets that every time he kisses me. Which, by the way, he does in the most amazing manner."
Faith frowned. "Yes, I remember. But you'll lose him with tactics like that."
She shrugged her shoulders. "I've already lost him, Faith. What more do I have to lose?"
"Oh, I don't know. Your self-respect, maybe? God's approval?"
Charity laughed. "Haven't had God's approval before; why start now?"
"I'm telling you, you're making a big mistake trying to win him like that."
She cocked her head. "But not in trying to win him back, is that what you're saying?"
Faith chewed on her lip, apparently mulling it over. "No, you're not making a mistake going after him. Just in how you plan to do it."
"Well, at least we agree on something. I never thought I'd see the day. So you'll help me convince Father to let me go back?"
Faith stared, then finally sighed. "Okay, I'll help you. On one condition."
Her eyes narrowed. "What?"
"No seduction. Just plain, God-fearing honesty."
Charity crossed her arms. "No way. That man plans on marrying another woman, and soon. I need all the weapons in my arsenal."
"Then I can't help you convince Father ...
Her lips skewed in thought as she stared at her sister. She finally plopped into the chair with a resigned smile. "Okay, deal. No seduction. I suppose it's hard to argue with a success story."
Faith grinned. "It is, isn't it? But you can have success too, you know."
"Well, I certainly intend to. Maybe not by seducing him, but I'm sure not going to let him get away scot-free." She gave Faith a pointed look. "I want to make sure that man understands what he's giving up."
Her sister's eyes were tender as they searched her face. "Just keep it on the up and up, Charity, please. I don't want to see you get hurt."
Charity released a heavy sigh and gave her a bittersweet smile. "Me, neither, sis. But I can tell you one thing. It sure can't feel any worse."
Charity squinted through the pane of glass in the door, then backed up to double-check the sign overhead. McGuire & Brady Printing Company. She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She'd promised Faith she'd clear the air with Collin, but not before she gave him a piece of her mind. She pushed the door open and glanced up at the sound of a tinkling bell. She scanned the tiny shop, impressed with its neatness even though it was crowded with furniture, equipment, and stacks of paper everywhere. And no Collin.
A tall man with a thatch of brown hair tumbling over his eyes peered out from the back, telltale smudges of ink spanning his face. He blinked. "Can I help you?"
She crossed her arms. "Yes, I'd like to speak with Collin McGuire, please."
He smiled. "He's out making deliveries right now. Is there something I can do for you?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Not unless you want an earful, Mr....
"Brady, John Brady." He reached out an ink-stained hand, shirtsleeves rolled up to expose a hard line of muscles knotting his arm.
She stared.
He quickly wiped his hand on his work apron, which looked suspiciously like he'd cleaned every machine in the place with it. "Sorry, tends to get a little messy in the back room."
She nodded, taking in the way his brown eyes twinkled despite the seriousness of his hard-chiseled face. "When do you expect him back?" She moved about, surveying the shop.
"Who?"
She turned and lifted a brow.
"Oh, you mean Collin. Not for a while, I'm afraid. He just left."
Her eyes widened. "Wait, you're Brady! Collin's trench mate during the war, right?"
He grinned, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. "One and the same. And you?"
She smiled and extended a hand. "Charity O'Connor, Collin's former fiancee."
With a wide grin, he pumped it with a firmness that made her wince. He immediately pulled away. "Yeah, now I remember seeing you briefly at the wedding. You missed the reception, as I recall. Collin said you weren't feeling well. Sorry about the handshake. Sometimes I don't know my own strength. It just feels so good to finally put a face to a name."
"Not one used in vain, I hope?"
The sound of his laughter lifted her spirits. "I don't believe I'm at liberty to say."
She looked at the ink smudge on her hand and wrinkled her nose. "You wouldn't happen to have a spare rag, would you?"
Leaning over a box, he fished out a towel that was even dirtier than his apron. "It's not exactly pristine, but it should do the job."
"Thanks." She wiped her hand and tossed it back.
He caught it in the air and grinned. "So what do you think of our boy, married at last?"
She smiled and folded her arms. "Well, 'our boy' is not my boy anymore, so I guess I can say I'm pretty happy for the both of them. Actually, they're perfect for each other, although I have to admit, I never thought I'd see the likes of Collin McGuire enamored with God."
Brady shook his head and leaned against the doorframe, a boyish grin on his face. "I can tell ya, there were many a moment I had my doubts. But God got him in the end." He shifted, his eyes boring into hers. "He usually does."
She cocked her head. "Oh, I forgot. You're the one who preached at him day and night till he was blue in the face. I'd love to know what you said that turned him around."
His grin softened into a smile. "Why, you interested?"
She blinked. He was attractive, but not her usual type. Too clean, too honest to suit her, none of the bad-boy gleam that always turned her head. And yet, there was something ...
She gave him the benefit of her sweeping lashes and dazzling smile. "Maybe."
He stood up straight, shocking her with his towering height. "Good. Come by anytime for Bible study with Beth during lunch hour. She's here three days a week about this time." He glanced out the front window and smiled. "In fact, she's here right now, if you care to join us."
Charity looked up to see her sister running down the street. She swallowed hard and glanced back at Brady. "Bible study? You want me to come to Bible study? That's it?"
The smile faded on his face. "Yeah, of course. What did you think I meant?"
A blush heated her cheeks. A rare occurrence, except when it came to Mitch Dennehy. The bell over the door jangled, sounding like an alarm in her mind.
Beth was huffing when she finally rushed in. Her hand all but froze to the knob as she stared at Charity, mouth and door gaping. "Charity ... what are you doing here?"
"I came to have it out with Collin."
Beth's face relaxed. Her gaze darted to Brady. A shy smile creased her lips. "Hi, Brady."
He grinned and walked over to loop an
arm around her shoulders. He gave her a big-brother squeeze. "Hi, buddy, how was school today?"
Beth gazed up, her face positively glowing. "Good, Brady. I did what you said."
He planted a kiss on her head and grinned at Charity. "She's a quick study."
Charity cleared her throat. "Well, I guess I'll be going. I don't want to intrude."
Brady smiled. "Okay. Nice meeting you. Come by anytime." He turned and ushered her sister to the back room. Beth smiled and gave Charity a quick wave, then focused her attention on Brady as he reached for a Bible and plopped it on the table. He eased back in a battered cane-back chair, annoyingly oblivious to the fact that Charity was still in the room.
She blinked. What just happened? The cold shoulder? From a grown man? One preferring time spent with her waifish fifteen-year-old sister than her? She gaped at his back, irritated by the muscled span of it as he leaned over the table, head propped against one hand while flipping pages with the other. She lifted her chin. Who in the devil did he think he was, anyway? Mr. Holier-than-Thou?
She spun on her heel and charged toward the door, her pride stinging as much as the heat in her cheeks. She yanked it open with a loud clang of the bells, then slammed it closed to vent her frustration. Two men whistled as she passed, helping to temper her mood. She pressed her lips tight and ignored their smiles, jutting her chin in the air.
Bible study, her foot. When pigs-or Mr. John Brady-could fly.
The door banged closed, sending shivers through the small shop. Brady looked up with a grin. "So that's your big sister, Charity? Didn't get a chance to meet her at the wedding."
Beth bit her lip and nodded. "Do you think she's pretty? Everyone else does."
He studied the fragile hope in her eyes as she awaited his answer. He smiled and chucked her on the chin. "Not as pretty as you, Beth."
She blushed near scarlet and looked down at her open notebook. "Don't lie to me, Brady. Everyone says Charity's one of the prettiest girls they've seen. At least every boy in my class."