A Hope Undaunted

by Julie Lessman

  Emma grinned and squeezed Katie back. “He always is,” she said with a soft chuckle.

  Katie released her hold and plopped back into the chair with a loud exhale. Her smile turned curious. “By ‘he,’ you mean God, I suppose.”

  Something about the skeptical slant in Katie’s brow caused Emma’s stomach to flutter. It was no secret Katie didn’t share her family’s allegiance to God, a concern voiced by both Faith and Charity on more than one occasion.

  Emma eased back into her chair with a prayer in her heart, and gave Katie a shy smile. “I do – the Holy Spirit, in particular – that still, quiet voice.”

  The cool guard Katie always wore so well shifted into place, a ceramic mask with a tight-lipped smile. “It was nothing more than a thought, Emma. I seriously doubt that any deity was whispering in my ear.”

  Emma leaned forward to prop her elbow on the desk, chin in hand. “Really? Why?”

  Katie blinked. “Because God doesn’t intervene in people’s lives like that – at least he never has in mine.”

  Her smile softened. “He just did, Katie. First when he brought you into Alli’s life as an answer to her prayer . . . and then when he brought you to me, in answer to yours.”

  “Coincidence,” Katie said in a clipped tone, her back pressed hard against her chair.

  “Could be,” Emma said quietly, “but it’s been my experience that it’s not. When coincidences start piling up, you start to notice a trend.”

  “A trend?” Katie folded her arms with a smile. “What, that some Being up in the sky is whispering in my ear?”

  “Yes.” Emma’s tone softened with reverence. “And that there is a God in heaven who aches inside to love you and bless you and answer your prayers.”

  The smile faded on Katie’s lips. “How can you say that, Emma? You, of all people – after all the pain you’ve suffered in your life?”

  Emotion thickened in Emma’s throat as she stared at the young woman before her, and her heart wrenched at the hardness she saw etched in her face. “It’s because of the pain in my life that I can say that, Katie, because it’s that same pain that brought me to him.”

  “But aren’t you angry at God for what happened? Your marriage, your scars?”

  “No, Katie, I get angry at sin – mine and Rory’s, because it was sin that brought pain into my life and robbed me of the blessings of God – not God himself. You see, when I was not much younger than you, I fell in love with Rory against my father’s wishes. He warned me to keep away from him, but I didn’t listen.” Emma sank back into her chair, memories from her past flooding her with regret. “I was young and naïve and so very much in love that I didn’t care that Rory was prone to drink, didn’t care that he didn’t share my faith.” A shiver rippled through her as her eyes trailed into a distant stare. “Didn’t care that he lured me into sin . . .”

  Emma straightened her shoulders to shake off the awful melancholy that still haunted her soul. “When I said I was going to marry Rory, my father cut me off – said I was dead to him and could never come home. So when Rory’s true colors began to show with his drinking and temper and womanizing . . . well, I had nowhere else to go.” Emma drew in a deep breath and locked gazes with Katie. “Nowhere but God.”

  Katie stared in silence, her arm limp on Emma’s desk. Although her mask was still in place, her eyes were moist with compassion.

  “So you see, when my family and Rory abandoned me, God did not. Yes, Rory beat me and scarred me and cheated on me, but God saw to it that I had favor at the shop where Charity and I worked, both with the clientele and the owner who taught me the skills I use in running the store today.” A mischievous smile tugged at her lips. “That is, until your sister came along. But even that he worked out for my good. Not only did he give me the dearest friend I have ever known, but he blessed me with a life in Boston with her family and her store, both of which have allowed me more joy than I ever dreamed possible.” Emma reached to touch Katie’s hand. “He will do the same for your precious Alli, I’m certain. And if you call on him, he will do the same for you. Whatever your hurts or fears or scars, Katie – call on him. He’s waiting to love you like you’ve never been loved before.”

  Katie slowly removed her hand from the desk and offered a nervous smile. “I don’t know, Emma, it all sounds wonderful, but God . . . prayer, well, I’m the type of person who deals with facts, not fantasy, and to be honest, I’m just not sure that it’s real.”

  Emma’s smile was peaceful. “I understand, Katie, but I can tell you this – you won’t know till you try.”

  A blush stained Katie’s cheeks as she quickly rose, indicating her awkwardness with the discussion. “Well, I’m not sure I’m ready to turn my life over to another authority figure just yet, because as you know, my father already holds a pretty tight rein. But I will agree you have been an answer to prayer for both Alli Moser and me today, so I promise to give your suggestion some definite thought.”

  Emma stood to her feet. “Give it some thought if you will, but with your heart, Katie, not your head. That’s where he resides, you know, when you invite him in – in your heart. And it’s where faith grows to heal a wounded soul.” After wrapping Katie in a tight hug, Emma smiled and led her to the door. “Now, when can you bring Alli by so I can meet her? I have paperwork she’ll need to fill out.”

  “How about tomorrow? I can stop by the BSCG right now on my way back to tell her.”

  “Perfect!” Emma said, opening the door. “Have a good day, Katie.”

  “I will,” Katie said, and then taking Emma by surprise, she whirled around and swallowed her up in a ferocious hug. “Oh, Emma, thank you so much – I am so excited! I’ll tell you what – Alli Moser has no idea how her life is about to change.”

  A soft chuckle tumbled from Emma’s lips as she returned Katie’s embrace. “No . . . no, she doesn’t, does she?” she whispered with a catch in her throat. A grin tugged at her smile while she squeezed with all of her might. And neither do you, Katie Rose . . . neither do you.

  “Teddy finally asleep?” Filling a kettle for tea, Faith turned at the sink to smile at Lizzie who hurried into her kitchen, cheeks flushed and a hand fanning her face.

  “Yes, thank heavens,” Lizzie said, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. She gave Charity’s shoulder a quick squeeze on her way to the cabinet where she kept her teacups and saucers. She shot a glance at the clock and toted the dishes to the kitchen table, clinking them down next to an African violet that looked as wilted as she. She sagged into a kitchen chair with a groan. “I really appreciate you two coming here to plan Mother and Father’s anniversary party – it makes it so much easier for me. Do you think Mother suspected anything?”

  “Nope,” Faith said, “I dropped the girls off, and the woman was so thrilled to have children underfoot again, she didn’t even ask where I was going. And, she even let Gabe stay home and play hooky from school today.” She scrounged inside Lizzie’s pantry for tea and then turned to squint at her sisters. “Earl Gray or Lavender?”

  “Lavender – I suspect Lizzie could use the calming effect,” Charity answered. She sighed and shook her head. “Father isn’t going to like that – Gabe playing hooky – if he even finds out.” An evil grin sprouted on her lips. “Mother is really something, though, isn’t she? Married almost thirty-five years, and the woman still can’t let go of raising children. You would think with all the trouble Steven and Katie have been, she’d welcome the change of life with open arms. But no, two children at home and six grandchildren underfoot are still not enough – she has to badger Father into a foster child too.”

  Faith grinned. “Gabe is as cute as a bug’s ear. Even though I have a feeling she’s going to make Katie look like a cherub.” She made the sign of the cross. “God bless Patrick O’Connor.”

  “Speaking of Katie,” Charity ventured as she picked at her nails, “is anybody else as tentative as I am about Katie’s engagement to Jack?”

  Fragrant
steam misted Faith’s face as she steeped tea in the kettle, her brows bunched in thought. “I definitely am. Not only has Katie never given any indication she’s madly in love with Jack, but neither of them seem to have much of a spiritual base, you know? As if God is no more to them than Sunday morning mass.” Faith sighed. “I guess I have to admit, it doesn’t thrill me to the bones.”

  “Father, either, apparently,” Charity said with a slant of a smile, “given the fact he’s making her wait until she’s out of law school.”

  “If she waits.” Faith sniffed her tea, soaking in the sweet aroma of lavender. “Knowing Katie, she’ll manage to harass him until he gives in.” She folded her arms and leaned against the counter as she waited for the kettle to boil. “I just wish Katie had fallen for someone like Luke McGee, a man with a heart for God and the strength to stand up to her. Not always let her have her own way like Jack does. But as we all know – Katie is Katie, the hardest head in the lot.” Her lips quirked into a smile. “Like I said, God bless Patrick O’Connor.”

  “Oops, I forgot the milk and sugar – ” Lizzie bounced up.

  Charity clamped a hand to her arm. “No, sit – I’ll get them. I swear you’re wearing me out just watching you. Being seven months pregnant is bad enough, but running after an overactive toddler to boot, no wonder you look so tired.”

  “Thanks, sis,” Lizzie said with a weary smile. “We were up at four on Sunday morning and – ” She shot a nervous look at both of her sisters, then gnawed on her lip and looked away. Color rose in her cheeks as she rubbed her swollen stomach. “Uh . . . I mean this little ruffian has been getting me up at the crack of dawn with its kicking and rolling.”

  “Four a.m.? Sounds like its father,” Faith said with a dry smile. “Collin says Brady still gets to the shop by six in the morning, even with the extra help they hired.” The teakettle whistled, and she snatched it up with a lift of her brow, proceeding to pour them each a cup. “Not that my husband would know, mind you, as he tends to roll in by nine.”

  Charity placed three spoons on the table, along with milk and sugar. “Likes to sleep in, does he?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

  Faith tossed a pot holder on the table and set the kettle on top. She slid into her chair and gave Charity a patient smile. “Yes, but trust me, sleep is the operative word. Lately that man has been too tired to do much of anything else.”

  Both of her sisters blinked. Charity leaned forward, one hand pressed to the table. “Collin McGuire? Too tired to try for a boy? What, has he given up his quest for a son?”

  “No, he still wants a son, but he’s been too tired to think about it like before. He works late almost every night, and even some Saturdays.”

  Charity eyed her over the rim of her cup. “With . . . Evelyn?”

  A sigh parted from Faith’s lips as she took a sip of her tea. “Sometimes. But I actually think that may be some of the reason he’s not so driven about having a son anymore. You see, Evelyn has a sick boy that Collin has met a few times, and I think he . . . well, I think he feels drawn to this boy, protective of him.”

  Charity’s cup met her saucer with a sharp clink. “You don’t think the boy could be – ”

  “No! No, I don’t. In fact, it’s impossible. The boy is thirteen and Collin hasn’t . . .” Heat stung her cheeks and she took a quick gulp of tea. “Well, he hasn’t been . . . close to her in almost twenty years. So, it’s not that.”

  Lizzie stirred cream into her tea with a pucker of concern. “You’re not worried that it could be an attachment to Evelyn that’s driving him, are you?”

  Uncomfortable with the conversation, Faith jumped to her feet and hurried to the cabinet. She pulled a plate out and proceeded to fill it with cookies from Lizzie’s ceramic cookie jar. “No, of course not. Collin has always had a big heart, especially when it comes to children who can’t fend for themselves. I think this little guy has just won his affection, that’s all.” She set the cookies on the table and took a deep breath. “Besides, I trust my husband.”

  Charity shoved a cookie in her mouth. “I wish I did,” she said with cheeks bulging.

  “You don’t trust Mitch?” Lizzie’s tone bordered on shock.

  “Oh, I trust him all right – to be a man. I mean, I love my husband, you all know that, but let’s face it, Mitch Dennehy is a bona fide bully. Even though the kids are in school every day and I have nothing to do, he has this antiquated notion – along with Collin, I might add – that women shouldn’t work. So while Emma’s overloaded with work at the store, what do I do? I stay home day after day and twiddle my thumbs . . .” Her eyes narrowed considerably. “While Mitch keeps me under his.”

  “He won’t let you help Emma for even a few hours a day?”

  Charity’s jaw angled up. “Absolutely not. Says his children need a mother, not a woman with a career – case closed.” She slumped back in the chair and sulked with a pout. “I’ll tell you what, if I had known what a tyrant he’d be, I would have thought twice about saying yes.”

  Faith couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sure you would have. Face it, sis – that man had you so lovesick you were nothing but a pile of mush. You thought twice all right – ‘yes, I’ll marry you,’ and ‘yes, I’ll marry you tomorrow.’”

  Her pout tilted into a sheepish grin. “I know. He’s lucky I’m so crazy about him or I’d go at him with both barrels blazing. As it is, I’m biding my time and wearing him down day by day so he has no idea that I’m actually going to win this battle. And don’t think I don’t have devices to get my way with an amorous man like Mitch Dennehy, because I do. And then we’ll see just who has whom under their thumb.” A sultry smile surfaced on her lips as she wiggled her brows with a gleam in her eyes. “Although I must admit . . . there are times I rather enjoy being under his.”

  “Well, that certainly won’t be Katie’s problem,” Lizzie said quickly, obviously hoping to steer the conversation into a safer direction. “Jack seems pretty content to give Katie whatever she wants, as far as I can see. She told me he’s letting her have her way on everything – when they get married, how they get married, and even where they’ll live after.” Lizzie sighed and took a sip of her tea. “Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think I could be happy in a marriage like that. Brady is so solid and strong and wise, that I just naturally defer to him.”

  Charity’s lips skewed into a dry smile. “That’s because you have as many stars in your eyes as I do in mine, Lizzie.”

  Faith tasted her tea and wrinkled her nose. “Yes, well, we all know there’s a lot more to a marriage than stars in your eyes.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Charity said with a jut of her brow. She leaned in, elbows flat on the table. “You could blind somebody with that constellation blazing in yours whenever Collin enters a room, same as Lizzie and me. But the truth is, I see nothing flickering in Katie’s eyes but burning ambition. Have you noticed how she always shoos Jack away when he hovers over her, trying to hug her or hold her hand? Sweet mother of Job, if Mitch pulled his nose from the grindstone long enough to fawn over me like that, I would die a happy woman.”

  “Not everybody is as needy as you, Charity,” Faith said with a squirm of her lips. “Katie’s a lot more private, so maybe she’s just not comfortable with Jack’s displays of affection in front of the family.”

  “Maybe,” Charity said with a tilt of her head, “but I have this sinking feeling deep down inside that Jack may not be the man that Katie needs. Call me a hopeless romantic if you will, but I think we need to pray about this engagement daily and often, before this ship sails.” One brow shot up. “Or something tells me this is one marriage that could very well hit the rocks.”

  “I’m inclined to agree,” Lizzie said quietly. “And Brady does too.”

  Faith pursed her lips as her gaze flicked from Charity to Lizzie and back, disappointed that she hadn’t thought of it herself. She scooted her chair in and clasped her hands on the table, giving Charity a slatted look t
hat held both tease and approval. “I just hate it when you’re right.”

  14

  Katie shifted on the love seat. Her legs were stiff and sore from stockinged feet tucked beneath her for well over an hour now. A quiet sigh rose and fell in her chest. She honestly hadn’t thought it would be this difficult. She glanced at Luke’s chiseled profile as he sat with Gabe in his lap, their eyes focused on the chessboard before them, and her heart did its usual annoying flip. If she had taken the time to realize Gabe living here would bring Luke to visit, she would have rethought the whole idea.

  She watched his thick arms twine around the little girl as he moved his pawn, then she flipped another page in her Harper’s Bazaar with a tight press of her lips. The clock on the mantel chimed nine, and relief oozed like balm to her aching limbs. The evening had finally come to an end – Gabe’s bedtime! Her expectant gaze flitted from her father, whose grim concentration told her he hadn’t noticed the time, to her mother, beatific as she knitted a sweater for Gabe. Katie ground her jaw in frustration.

  Go home, Luke McGee, and leave me alone.

  She unfolded her legs and lumbered to her feet with a grimace. Maybe she could move this along. “Anybody need a drink?” she asked sweetly. She slipped her shoes back on and glanced at the clock. “Oh . . . maybe not. Look at the time – it’s nine.”

  “Mmm . . .” Her father said without looking up.

  “No, thanks, dear,” her mother quipped with a smile.

  “I’ll have a root beer,” Gabe volunteered.

  “No root beer,” Patrick said, eyes glued to the board.

  Katie sighed. She stared at the Greek god with the child in his lap and narrowed her eyes, noting only silence from the thorn in her side.