by Louise Clark
Cody caught her hands and held them, his grasp warm and strong. “Your parents are divorced, aren’t they?”
Faith stared up into his wonderful blue eyes and nodded.
“And you expect them to have a spat at some point during the evening, don’t you?”
She sniffed, then nodded again.
He smiled. Gathering both of her hands together in one of his, he used his free hand to gently cup her cheek. “Okay, I’m warned.”
She leaned into his hand, like a cat rubbing against a beloved human companion. “Cody, my dad and I don’t get along.” She looked up into his eyes. They were dark with an emotion that she thought might be tenderness. That shocked her, but it warmed her too. “He doesn’t approve of me. I…I’m not sure what he’s likely to do tonight. What kinds of things he might say.”
He tugged her gently, drawing her against him. “You think he might do the heavy father bit?”
Faith shuddered. If only it was that simple. “He might. He might just be worse. I’m not sure. That’s the problem.”
Cody slipped his fingers under her chin and tipped her face up, then he kissed her. His mouth lingered over hers, teasing, tasting—taking. Faith leaned into that kiss, wanting more, knowing she wasn’t going to get it, at least not right now.
“Whatever happens, we’ll weather it,” he said.
Faith hoped so, but the cautious, doubting part of her couldn’t quite believe it.
Hostilities opened almost immediately.
Faith had created a spicy Chicken Etouffée served with rice, roasted vegetables, and a salad, knowing Cody would enjoy the exotic flavors in the main dish. Her mother and sister wouldn’t complain either—they were used to her love of hot foods. Daniel was another matter.
As the serving bowls were passed around the table Daniel frowned at the rice. “What’s this? No potatoes?”
Liz laughed. “Mashed or baked, Dad?”
“Mashed,” Daniel passed the bowl of rice to Chloe whose mouth was pursed with annoyance.
“I suppose you expect gravy too,” she said, accepting the bowl and spooning rice onto her plate.
“It would be nice,” Daniel said, inspecting the Etouffée platter. After a moment, he carefully speared a small chicken breast. “I suppose this is coated in something I won’t like?” he said as he scrapped off the sauce and spices.
In the middle of pouring the wine, Faith paused to stare aghast at her father. She’d hoped they would at least have raised a glass before he began his litany of criticism.
“Gravy isn’t going to come,” Chloe announced. “Nor are potatoes. You need to join the twenty-first century, Daniel.” She looked pointedly at his plate, a portrait of a picky eater’s tastes, with its lone chicken breast and a minimalist helping of vegetables. “You need to open your mind to new experiences.”
The bottle of chardonnay in Faith’s hand began to shake.
“You want me to open up to new experiences? I just got back from China. While I was there I lived as the people lived. I ate goose feet and turtle eggs and heaven knows what else. I had rice for breakfast, along with a gruel made out of pumpkins. Now I’m home I want normal food, like potatoes and plain, roasted chicken!”
Faith managed to finish pouring the wine. “Everyone okay with white?” she said, handing out the glasses.
Deep into it, Chloe nodded, accepted a glass and plowed on. She was staring narrow-eyed at her ex, clearly intent on doing battle. “If you need normalcy so much, why don’t you stay here in America, instead of accepting postings halfway across the world?”
Daniel wasn’t about to allow his former spouse to grab the initiative in the disapproval category. “When it comes to travel, Chloe, you’ve got me beat. You log more distance than I’ll ever do.” He pointed a finger at her as he spoke, “And when you return don’t you have a little ritual you always do? What was it now? Something about an expensive new outfit and a trip to the salon?”
Chloe blushed. “There’s no need to be patronizing, Daniel.”
“Dad, can’t you leave it?” Liz said, her eyes pleading.
Daniel frowned at her, as if he didn’t quite understand what was upsetting her, then he shrugged. “Of course, Elizabeth.” He looked around the table. “Cody, my daughter told me you work for the same company Faith does. What exactly do you do?”
My daughter. Liz, not Faith. Maybe Daniel hadn’t intended to hurt Faith with his comment, but he had. After all this time, despite knowing that her father had always preferred Liz over her, Faith still longed for her father’s affection.
Cody stared at Daniel for a minute, then he turned to Faith and smiled that beautiful, sensual smile that warmed her heart. Her breath caught as he took her hand. It was more than a gesture, it was a symbolic and very deliberate act. When he answered Daniel a moment later his message was clear. He and Faith were linked.
A speculative look lit Daniel’s eyes, but he didn’t comment. The next half hour passed in a conversation that focused safely on computers, mathematics, and NIT projects. Food was eaten and as Daniel became more interested in his discussion with Cody he absently added rice, a chicken leg and even a little of the Etouffée sauce to his plate. The bottle of wine emptied. Faith fetched another. Cody smiled his special smile at her as she poured and she enjoyed a surge of optimism that the night wouldn’t be the complete disaster she had feared.
Their talk flowed from NIT projects to Daniel’s engineering ones. Faith picked at her food, holding optimism at bay, waiting for her father to say something that would drive a wedge between her and Cody. Nothing happened.
By eight o’clock she was able to suggest they have the dessert her mother had prepared. She began to clear the table. Ominously her father offered to help her.
Her heart stopped. “Dad, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“No,” he said genially, stacking his completely clear plate on top of Liz’s, then reaching for Chloe’s. “I insist. I’ve been out of town so much working on construction projects in the third world that I don’t get to see my little girl enough. This will give me an opportunity to catch up.”
On the surface that sounded reasonable. Except that they all knew he visited Liz regularly no matter what contracts he was working on—so catching up with his “little girl” was just an excuse for him to lecture her in the kitchen. Faith knew how her father felt about her dating normal guys. Her heart did a nosedive down to her toes. He wanted to remind her about her differences, to tell her to stay away from regular boys, just the way he had when she reached puberty and became a Beacon. They’ll laugh at you, Faith. They’ll call you a freak. You can never tell anyone —anyone!—what you are. Do you understand?
She risked a glance at Cody. He was looking at Daniel. There was an amused expression on his face, but his eyes were watchful. He caught Faith staring at him and shot her one of those sexy half-smiles of his. Her heart did a little jump. She smiled back then headed for the kitchen. Better get the one-on-one with her father over with.
“That’s a very nice young man,” Daniel said when they reached the kitchen.
“He is,” Faith opened the dishwasher. She pulled out the rack and began to fill it, taking the dishes her father held out to her.
“I like Cody.” Daniel frowned. “Does he know?”
“No,” Faith said shortly.
Cody strolled into the kitchen, a load of dishes in his hands. “Do I know what?”
Horror washed over Faith. Would her father take this opportunity to blurt out her secret? Despair, swiftly followed by resignation, washed over her. If he did, Daniel would describe her special ability in a negative way and she would watch Cody’s face change from affection to contempt.
This was not how she wanted to tell him that she was a Beacon. She wanted to sit next to him and explain quietly that she had inherited a family trait that might make her seem different, even strange, but was nothing to be concerned about. She wanted to tell him in a joyous way, not a disapprovi
ng one, exactly who she was.
Certain that her father was once again about to abandon her, she hunted up desert forks in the cutlery drawer.
“About Chloe’s strawberry shortcake. I always have two helpings.” Daniel patted his stomach. “I shouldn’t, but it’s marvelous. That dessert is probably the thing I miss most about being married to her.” He headed for the fridge and the shortcake.
Cody plunked his load of dishes onto the counter and said quietly, “What was that all about?”
“My father’s peculiar sense of humor, I guess,” Faith muttered in a low voice. In a more normal tone she said, “Thanks, Cody. Would you mind taking the coffee cups into the dining room for me?”
They ate the strawberry shortcake, with Daniel indulging in seconds as promised, and drank coffee, until Daniel stifled a yawn. “I haven’t adjusted to the time change yet and it’s catching up with me. Thank you for dinner, Faith. It was good to see you.”
“Thanks for coming Dad. I’ll walk you to the door.”
On the porch, Daniel paused. “I know you don’t care for my advice, Faith, but I hope you’ll take it this time.” There was a hint of compassion in his expression as he studied her. “Cody is an intelligent man with a flexible mind, but you’d be well advised not to become any more involved with him.”
Faith swallowed hard. “Why?”
“Because of what you are, of course.”
“Dad—”
He caught her shoulders in what may have been intended as a comforting grasp. “You’re a pretty girl, Faith. A bright one, too, but this trait that you and your mother share…” He shook his head. “It’s too weird for any man to accept. It broke up my marriage with Chloe and it hurt us both. Why open yourself up to that kind of grief?”
Hot tears clogged Faith’s throat and filled her eyes. She fought them down. Despite everything, in her heart she wanted her father’s approval of herself, of her growing feelings for Cody, even though in her mind she knew it would never come.
“Night, Dad,” she said, without answering him. He turned away as she closed the door. Faith rubbed her forehead and sighed.
She found the others in the kitchen. Chloe was just finishing up the hand washing and Elizabeth was putting away the pots that Cody had dried. Chloe was telling Cody her recent discoveries about the Civil War, which she cheerfully put down to some in-depth research she’d been doing. Cody made interested sounds and Liz winked at Faith, who wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be terrified.
Despite her father’s recommendation, she was going to tell Cody about herself. This business of living on the edge was too much for her. “Would you like to go into the living room, Cody? Mom, do you mind if I steal Cody away?”
“Off you go,” Chloe said, wiping the counter. “Liz and I can finish up here.”
Cody hung the damp tea towel on the handle of the stove door, then turned. Now, facing the three women, he was the only one whose back was not toward the kitchen doorway. His brows rose. “Hello. Who are you?”
Chapter 17
For a moment Faith couldn’t move. She heard a familiar voice say, “I’m Andrew. And who would you be? Ahhh, the boyfriend.”
Elation fought with horror. Initially elation won. She whirled around, laughter bubbling from her lips. “Andrew! What are you doing here?”
He grinned at her, as best he could. There was a cut on his upper lip and swelling on his lower that suggested he’d been in a fight, recently. “I need a bolt hole.”
Faith risked a look at Cody. He was studying Andrew through eyes bright with curiosity.
Faith couldn’t blame him for wondering what was going on. Andrew was a mess. Locks of hair had escaped from the tail he wore tied at the back of his neck and twigs were caught in the dark strands. One of the ruffles on his fine linen shirt had been torn. There was mud on the leg of his velvet breeches and a hole gaped in the stocking below. Faith’s delight at seeing him again eased into concern. “What happened to you?”
“Mary Elizabeth’s father.”
“Oh,” said the Hamilton women in unison.
“Who’s Mary Elizabeth?” Cody asked. “And why are you dressed that way, Andrew?”
“Mary Elizabeth is Andrew’s girlfriend,” Faith said. She deliberately ignored Cody’s other question. Answering it would open doors she planned to take Cody through, but not like this, with Uncle Andrew and everyone else in the family listening in.
Andrew brushed some dirt from his breeches, then mournfully eyed the gaping hole in his stocking. “I am not usually such a sloven.” He sat down at the kitchen table and put his chin in his hands. The bedraggled ruffles at his wrists flopped toward his elbows. “Mary Elizabeth’s father does not approve of my intentions toward his daughter. Or of me, for that matter,” he added sadly. “Our politics put us so far apart that there is a vast gulf between us.”
Chloe sat down beside Andrew and patted him on the back. “You will win out, Andrew. You must be strong for everything to fall into place.”
He was immediately alert. There was an almost crafty gleam in his eyes. “Are you promising me the government will change? Or that I will wed Mary Elizabeth?”
Chloe shook her head, pursing her lips and pretending to be annoyed. “Andrew! You know I cannot tell you what will happen.”
“Oh, man,” Faith said. Much as she wanted to talk to Andrew, to find out exactly what had brought him tonight, Cody was listening to this exchange with a fascination that was downright dangerous. She grabbed his arm with a half-formed idea that she’d be wise to tow him out of the kitchen.
Andrew said, “At this moment, I care not. Mary Elizabeth is furious at her father. Aye, and so too is her mother. I will wait here until the wretched man has gone back to Boston town. Then I will return to continue my courtship of Mary Elizabeth.”
Totally aghast, Faith abandoned her idea of a strategic withdrawal. She had to deal with this now. She glared at Andrew. “I knew this would happen. I knew it! Didn’t I tell you that the last time you came?”
“Aye, you did. But—”
Her hand was still clutching Cody’s arm, and now, under a full head of steam, Faith propped her other hand on her hip. “Didn’t you promise to stay away? Didn’t you?”
Andrew stared at her steadily, maintaining a wary calm at odds with her stressed-out fury. “Aye, I did. But—”
“No buts, Andrew!” Letting go of Cody, she turned to Liz. “Did you hear him? Did you hear him say he was going to stay here?”
“Okay,” Liz said. “So I was wrong.”
“Wrong about what?” Cody asked.
Faith froze in place. Wide-eyed, she turned to Cody, wanting to tell him what was going on, but not sure how to do it, or even if it was a good idea to let him get involved.
To her surprise he smiled, a little ruefully, and drew his finger across her lips in a feather-light touch. “I get it. It’s a family issue. I’ll take off and give you the privacy to sort it out.”
“No!” The vehemence of her response surprised Faith, even more than it surprised her watching family. She couldn’t tell Cody that she was a Beacon, not in the middle of this emotional mess, but she could include him in this crisis. He didn’t have to know that Andrew was a man who had been born two centuries earlier to add his input to help solve the problem. All he had to know was that Andrew was in trouble, needed a bolt hole and had decided her house was where he would find it.
She caught his hand. Holding it between both of hers, she said, “Stay, Cody, please.”
Cody’s eyes probed her face, looking for reasons for her request, trying to find the answer to her question.
Chloe said smoothly into the charged atmosphere, “Yes, please don’t go, Cody. I’m sure Andrew would welcome the presence of another male.” She shot Andrew a quelling look. “Even a man from outside the family.”
Faith almost groaned. If anything, her statement appeared to make Cody even more intrigued than before.
Andrew shot Chloe a mis
chievous look, before he thoughtfully inspected Cody. Cocking one eyebrow he said coolly, “He looks a fine fellow, indeed, Mistress Chloe. I would be pleased to add to my invitation to yours.”
It was Cody’s turn to raise his brows as Andrew ended his flowery speech. They rose even higher when Andrew stood to execute a short, but undeniable, bow. “Are you an actor?”
Liz laughed. Faith said, “He certainly tells enough untruths to be called one. Andrew, we talked about this the other night. You can’t come here just because things are going wrong at…at home. And you certainly can’t stay with me!”
“I must,” Andrew said. “’Twill only be for the space of a sen’night.”
This was getting worse and worse. Faith stepped away from Cody so she could advance on Andrew. “You can’t.”
“Sen’night?” Cody said. “I don’t know that term.”
Liz said helpfully, “It means a week in Andrew’s jargon.”
“See what you’ve started,” Faith said, desperately afraid and absolutely furious as a result.
Andrew backed away until his behind met the edge of the table. There he stopped, holding up his hands, palms forward. “Surely you will not deny me sanctuary, Faith?”
“Andrew, you know what this means!”
“Aye,” he said again. “But I cannot go home, at least not right now.”
Chloe said calmly, “You cannot deny him sanctuary, Faith. When one of the family is in trouble, the others do what they can to help. It is why it all began. It is why we are as we are.”
Faith glared at Andrew, who was nodding portentously at Chloe’s words. She wanted to shake him like a terrier with a rat, then boot him back to 1772, but she knew her mother was right. Family lore had it that an early ancestor trapped in the hell of the Salem Witch Trials had discovered the beacon. Fearing she too would be charged and condemned, and desperate to escape, she had run into the woods, braving the dangers of the untamed North American continent rather than facing the probability of a quick conviction and a terrible death. Cold, hungry, exhausted, she was said to have followed a light in the woods—and found herself in a prosperous farm over one hundred years in the future.