* * *
Kieran watched the scene from the doorway. He’d been ready to bark at Faith for not keeping her word, but he changed his mind when he saw them together. As much as he wanted Faith back in his bed, in his arms, they needed this. And he was fairly certain Faith wasn’t going anywhere. If she was, he would find her.
He slipped back into the room quietly, opting for a shower and shave instead.
When he returned, he found Matt in one of the La-Z-Boys and Faith on the sofa. Both had cups of coffee in their hands, and looked as though they were in the midst of a deep, serious discussion. Two sets of unique gray eyes turned to him in unison, and Kieran felt a possessive tug deep in his chest. They were his. Both of them.
“Here,” Faith said, patting the seat beside her. “Matt was filling me in on everything I, uh, missed, yesterday. I made you some coffee.”
Kieran gladly accepted the cup with thanks, but he didn’t sit down. There were some things they had to get straight, and the sooner that was taken care of, the better off they would all be.
He drained his cup, briefly taking note of the fact that Faith had made his exactly the way he liked it (of course she did, she was his croie, she would do everything perfectly for him), and faced the two of them.
He gave a meaningful glance to Matt, who nodded soberly. The kid knew what was coming. Kieran had a long heart-to-heart with him the day before, and Matt had given his full and whole-hearted support.
“Know this, Faith,” he began, keeping his voice carefully modulated – soft, yet firm. “You are my croie – my heart and my soul. I’m sorry if you can’t accept that just yet, but you will, and I won’t give up until you do. If you run, I’ll be two steps behind you. If you hide, I will find you. Because there is no other option.”
Faith gazed up at him, her eyes widening slightly. “Okay.”
He stood there, immense and immovable, ready for a battle. He was through with stepping lightly. Faith was his, that’s all there was to it. And now that he’d started, he had no intention of stopping until she’d heard him through till the end.
“And I’ll tell you something else, too,” he said, refusing to be sidelined by her willful pride. “I couldn’t care more for Matt than if he was my own flesh and blood. I don’t know much about being a father, but I can promise I’ll do my damnedest to do right by him, and I’ll always be there for him, whatever he needs.”
“Alright.”
She was not going to wear him down with her illogical arguments, he decided stubbornly. “You can just forget all that bullshit about having to carry every burden on your own shoulders, because mine are a lot broader than yours, sweetheart. And while we’re on that subject, you will drive a safe and decent car and you will have a workable phone so I am not batshit crazy with worry over whether you’re broken down or laying bloody in a ditch somewhere.”
He paused as he blew out a breath and crossed his arms over his chest, setting his face in what he hoped was a stern look that let her know he meant business. She stared up at him with those big, soft gray eyes, her face much more relaxed than he’d expected.
“Anything else?”
Kieran blinked, the fury he’d prepared for not yet forthcoming. She meant to lull him into a sense of complacency first, obviously. A clever trap, but one he would not be falling for today.
“Yes, actually. I want you to be happy. If you want to work? Great. Go to school? Awesome. Stay at home? Fine by me. I am totally cool with whatever you want to do, but you will allow me to provide for my family, which, in case I wasn’t clear enough, now includes you and Matt.”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “Are you done?”
“Almost.” This was going much easier than he’d expected. It made him suspicious, scared the hell out of him, really, but Callaghan men were renowned for their courage and fortitude in the face of danger. He fumbled around in his pocket for a moment, then went down on bended knee.
“I want you to marry me, Faith. Be my wife, and let me take care of you for the rest of our lives.”
* * *
She stared at him for a full minute while she tried to control the irregular pounding of her heart against the walls of her chest, as well as how to breathe. Finally, when she was capable of speech again, she opened her mouth.
“No,” she said softly.
A flash of pain appeared momentarily in his eyes, replaced almost immediately by grim determination. Before he could say another word, however, Faith was before him, sitting on the edge of the couch. With him down on his knee, it put them at eye level. Her hands gently cupped his face, forcing his eyes to hers.
“I have a couple of demands of my own,” she said. “First, you will not take care of me. We will take care of each other. Secondly, I want to pick out my own car and my own phone. You can have a say in it, and you can have Sean check it out, but ultimately, it’s my choice. Third, I will continue to work, but I am willing to cut down my hours so we can have more family time together.”
She smirked at the look of total shock on his face. “How does that work for you?”
Kieran didn’t move for several long moments. He remained on the floor, with one knee down and the other bent at a ninety degree angle. His blue eyes darkened, then lightened to their perfect celestial blue again. And the corners of his mouth began to quirk.
“That’s a yes, then?”
Faith rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, too. “A bit slow this morning, are we?”
The quirk became a full-fledged grin. “Apparently.” He looked at Matt, whose face was twisted in that smug, cocky look only a teenager was capable of. “You heard her, too, right? She said she’d marry me.”
“She did.”
“She can’t back out now.”
“Nope.”
Kieran slipped the exquisitely cut diamond onto Faith’s waiting finger and captured her mouth in a possessive kiss.
“Ugh. If you guys keep that up I might just change my mind,” Matt grumbled.
Faith looked at her son over Kieran’s shoulder. “You were in on this?”
“Well, duh.”
“I need to see my father.”
Faith blurted out the words in between bites of the buttery croissant. Her mother’s – or at least the woman she had believed was her mother all this time – words kept repeating in her head. As much as they shocked her, Faith sensed an underlying truth in them. It was as if some dark monster was hiding in the depths of her awareness, trying to avoid being dragged out into the light.
Kieran looked up from his plates of eggs, pancakes, home fries, ham, and, since they were in the South, grits. Matt had already polished his off and was taking his turn in the shower.
Kieran finished chewing and swallowed, wiping a napkin carefully across his mouth. “You sure?”
She drew in a breath. “Yes. I need to know.” She exhaled. “I want to put all this behind me so I can start enjoying my new life,” she said, touching Kieran’s hand. “I need closure.”
Kieran nodded, his concern evident in the darkening of his blue eyes, the serious set to his boyish features. He wasn’t happy about it, but he understood.
“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.”
His full, male lips thinned slightly; his eyes darkened further, a luminous midnight glow. He gave her a look of such possession that it made her heart stutter slightly, but then softened it with a smile.
“Have you already forgotten?” he chastised gently. “You will never have to face anything alone again.”
Faith beat down the feeble protest that tried to rise up out of habit, and allowed the wave of intense relief to carry it away. It would take a while for her to learn how to share her doubts and worries, and it wouldn’t always be easy, but for this man, she would do her best.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. With Kieran by her side, Faith felt like she could face – and conquer – anything. “I don’t think Matt should go, though.”
“A
greed. Think he’ll be okay hanging out here?”
Faith took a look at the bank of digital electronics and chuckled. “Yeah, I think he’ll be okay roughing it for a few hours.”
* * *
Matt wasn’t entirely happy about being left behind, but it was a sure sign of his ever increasing maturity that he said he understood when Faith explained where they were going and why. Kieran knew he had no desire to meet his maternal grandparents, not after the scene he’d already witnessed. As part of their heart to heart the night before, Matt had confessed that if that was what his heritage was, he didn’t want to know any more.
Maybe that would change someday. If it did, Kieran would be there to help him through it.
At this point, though, it was probably for the best. Kieran wasn’t sure he would be able to completely suppress the urge to lay the man out for everything he’d made Faith suffer.
Kieran and Faith slipped quietly into the back of the church, taking their seats on the far end of the pew before the service began. The idea was to avoid as much interest as possible. Avoiding it completely wasn’t realistic; they were outsiders, after all, and a man like Kieran definitely stood out anywhere he went.
They remained quiet and still, Faith’s head bowed in what looked like respectful prayer while Kieran kept his eye on everything and everyone and made no secret of the fact that he did. Only a few of the curious were brave enough to hold his intense blue gaze for more than a second or two before looking quickly away. No doubt many felt the weight of that laser-like stare on the backs of their heads, too, preventing them from turning around and gawking.
He heard Faith’s breath hitch when the pastor finally stepped up to the pulpit. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, reminding her that she was not alone.
John O’Connell was barely fifty years old, but every one of those years showed in the lines in his face. He kept his dark gray hair shorn close, emphasizing his dark, piercing eyes. Kieran studied his sharp, angular features, but there was absolutely no sign of his beautiful croie anywhere in them. Faith must have taken after her mother, he realized. That simple fact alone probably doomed her to their scorn.
Finding that the longer he looked at the preacher the more his dislike for the man grew, Kieran turned his attention elsewhere. When they’d first arrived, Kieran automatically made note of every possible entry and exit point. Out of habit, he checked again to make sure they were all clear.
As John segued into his sermon (ironically enough centered upon the sacrifice of Abraham’s son and the need to put God above family), Kieran took the opportunity to study the surroundings. It was definitely an old church, built around the turn of the century if he had to guess. The exterior was the traditional white, a narrow building with a steeple and a bell tower on top. Inside, the wooden benches showed their age, worn smooth over the years. A few stained glass windows remained, though most had been replaced with less-expensive plexi-glass. The carpet up the center aisle was threadbare.
The seats were a little more than half-full. Most of the parishioners looked as worn as the church. The older ones dressed up to attend services - the men in suits and ties, the women in dresses, accessorized with hats and hairpins. From the look of things, their finery was from an age long past, but Kieran thought that God would appreciate the effort nonetheless.
The younger ones sported jeans – though Kieran was sure they were their “nice” jeans, and clean shirts and shoes. But there was no mistaking this parish for anything but what it was – a very poor community where the people struggled to survive and held on to their faith regardless.
It angered Kieran that a man like John O’Connell would take advantage of that. He didn’t realize he’d let his control slip until he felt Faith squeezing his hand, giving him the same quiet reassurance he had given her. He smiled, and her earlier words came back to him: We will take care of each other.
* * *
After the service, they waited quietly in the shadows while the pastor spoke to the departing parishioners.
“I thought you might come,” John said, closing the church doors as the last of his flock walked away with a wary backward glance. “Mary told me she saw you yesterday.”
Faith looked at the man that had once cast her so easily from his home and inhaled deeply. “Are you my father?” she asked suddenly.
A lifetime of pain crossed his features, and he suddenly looked very, very old. “Yes.”
“Is Mary my mother?”
Seconds ticked by in the silence that followed, but it felt like an eternity. Faith was sure her heart had stopped beating in the time it took for him to answer.
“No.”
“You hypocrite.” Several phrases flowed through her mind at that moment. That was the most Christian-friendly word she could think of.
John’s features hardened, but he nodded. He walked toward the front of the church and sat down heavily in the first pew. After a few moments, Faith followed with Kieran’s hand on her lower back. Faith slid into the pew behind her father, shifting to the side so she could see his face.
John turned and looked not at her, but at Kieran. “You’re married?”
“Will be soon.”
“And the boy?”
“My son in every way that matters.”
John nodded, but his eyes remained cold and impassive. “Our sins always come back to haunt us, don’t they?” he said, his voice rough. “We fool ourselves, thinking that if we pray fervently enough, go to church, say and do all the right things, that we’re worthy, but we’re not. It’s futile. God knows this.”
“Is that what I am?” Faith asked, her voice as small as a child’s. “A sin?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “You, Faith, are the physical manifestation of my weakness. My Scarlet Letter, if you remember your classics. God’s reminder that no matter what I think I am, I am still only a man. A sinner at heart.”
That sounded like a load of bullshit to her, nothing but a convenient excuse, but she heard herself saying, “Tell me.”
For a long while she thought he wouldn’t. The silence was deafening in the empty church, as if even God was listening. Kieran ran small circles over her hand with the pad of his thumb, keeping her anchored, confirming his words in deed. It didn’t make it easy, but having him there made it easier.
“I didn’t know your mother was pregnant,” he said finally.
“Did you love her?” Faith asked.
John didn’t answer that question. “I couldn’t marry her. She came from a bad family. Her father was a drunk and a criminal, her mother the town whore. Not exactly ideal for a pastor’s wife.” He smiled weakly. “But she was beautiful. And smart. And funny.” His eyes raked over Faith as if seeing someone else. “You look just like her.”
Two different worlds, Faith mused, but maybe not so different. “Where is she now?”
John’s face clouded. “She’s dead. She died in a house fire shortly after you were born when her father passed out in bed with a lit cigarette. I didn’t even know about you,” he said quietly, “until the police chief came around with you in his arms. He said I was the next of kin, that I was listed as your father on the birth certificate.”
For several moments, his nearly black eyes glittered with the regret and pain of loss. Faith was very familiar with both. “And?”
“Mary, oh, Mary was livid. Hasn’t let me forget it a single day of my life. But I had to take you in, didn’t I? It was the Christian thing to do, and I was the pastor. God was using me as an example.”
It was all becoming clear; the pieces were finally following into place. Why Faith had gray eyes but her parents and all of her siblings had brown ones. Why the woman she thought was her mother and her father resented her so much. Faith felt like part of her was slowly leaking away; had it not been for Kieran, she might have slid down the pew.
“When you came home pregnant, Mary couldn’t handle it. She said you had to go, that you were just like your mother. I had no
choice, Faith. She stood by me all those years, kept my secrets. Gave me five more children - legitimate children not born in sin.”
Whatever self-pity Faith was feeling faded, replaced slowly with anger. “I am your daughter.”
He stiffened, the lines on his face hardening. “I took you in. Put food in your belly and clothes on your back until you went and got yourself pregnant. I did right by you.”
“If that’s what you think parenting is, you’re even more pathetic than I thought. Leaving was the best thing I ever did.”
John didn’t deny it. “I prayed for you.”
Faith laughed, a cold, empty sound that surprised them all. It echoed in the empty church. “Well, then. I guess that makes everything okay. Goodbye, Dad.”
Faith rose and began to walk down the aisle, Kieran protectively at her back. She was nearly at the doors when John stood up. “Faith, wait.”
Faith paused and turned slowly. “You’ve obviously done well for yourself,” John began, and for a moment Faith thought he might be about to tell her that he was proud of her. But those hopes were shot to hell with his next words. “We’ve fallen on hard times here. You have an obligation to your family.”
Nothing could have prepared her for that. She gaped at him, open-mouthed, for several seconds before she finally found her voice. “Don’t worry, Dad,” she said, turning away again. “I’ll pray for you.”
“You okay?” Kieran asked, once they were in the comfortable rental and headed back to the hotel.
“Yeah,” she said, blowing out a breath. It was the first full breath she’d taken all morning. The fresh air, combined with the scent of the man she loved, filled her lungs and burned away some of the residual angst. “I really am.”
“Good,” he said simply, lacing his fingers through hers.
“Yeah.”
“So. What do you think about a New Year’s Eve wedding?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Having Faith: Callaghan Brothers, Book 7 Page 22