A Hope Undaunted

by Julie Lessman

  Marcy plucked a blouse from her basket and examined the tear that needed mending. “I’ll vouch for that. With Patrick’s pay cut and our savings all but wiped out, we’ll be watching every penny for a long time to come. Which,” she said with a weary release of her breath, “is why I’m becoming a rather handy seamstress.” She smiled at her daughters. “With your help, of course.”

  Lizzie had Molly draped over her knees, swaying her to sleep while sewing buttons onto a jacket. “Katie, I thought you and Parker were going to spend the day scouting apartments.”

  A frown puckered Katie’s brow as she glanced at the clock. “We are, but he’s late for some reason, which is odd because Parker is never late.” She squinted at Marcy. “He didn’t call this morning when I was out, did he?”

  Marcy shook her head with another needle tucked in her mouth. “Not that I know of, but Steven or your father could have taken it, I suppose, and forgotten to tell you.”

  The doorbell rang, and Katie popped up. “There he is now. Mmm . . . engaged for a month and he’s already taking me for granted.” Humming to herself, she opened the front door with a hand on her hip. “Goodness, Parker, I was getting ready to comb the streets.” She stopped, her heart toppling at the deathly look on his face. “What’s wrong – are you all right?”

  “No, Katie, I’m not.” He reached inside and grabbed her jacket off the coat rack, then draped it over her shoulders with a glazed look. His lips were as white as his face as he steered her out the door. “Can we talk on the swing, please?”

  She started to tremble and he quickly helped her on with her wrap. His hands were cold, not unlike the sick feeling in her stomach. “Parker, tell me what’s wrong, please.”

  They sat on the swing and he drew her close. The muscles in his throat worked hard as he struggled to form the words. “Katie, Betty had the baby late last night, a little girl . . .”

  Katie turned and clutched his hands. “Oh, Parker, did the baby die . . . is that it?”

  She’d seldom seen Parker with tears in his eyes, but she saw them now. “No,” he said in a strained voice that sounded nothing like him at all. “Not the baby, Katie . . . Betty.”

  She blinked, the words not registering in her brain. Betty? Gone? No – it was impossible! Her eyelids drifted closed and she could see the lazy curve of that beautiful smile, the faint sprinkling of freckles on that alabaster skin. In her mind’s eye, she saw hazel eyes that had always held a twinkle, framed by that auburn hair that so often turned a head. Bile rose in her throat, and she thought she might be sick. Betty . . . dead? No, God, please . . .

  She stared at Parker, so pale and so stunned, and felt tears spring to her eyes. She forced the words from her mouth, her throat aching from the strain. “How? Why?”

  “Severe bleeding,” he whispered. He stared, eyes stark with grief. “She died this morning.”

  The breath seized in her lungs. She closed her eyes and fell into Parker’s arms, sobs rising in her throat. How could this be happening? To Betty? To Luke? Suddenly she thought of Luke and what he must be experiencing, and the anguish in her soul was almost unbearable. She needed to go there, to be there for him. Now! She clutched Parker’s arms. “We have to go, we have to be there for him. I’ll call the train station and then go pack – ” She shot to her feet.

  “Katie, no,” he whispered, clasping her arm and easing her back into the swing. “I came to tell you that I’m leaving for the station now, and I’m going to stay with Luke for several weeks. There’s no reason for you to come, and I need you at the office.”

  She blinked, not comprehending. “No reason to come? I love Betty and Luke – of course I’ll come. I’ll just make sure Bobbie Sue is in all week, and Gladys will be there too. I won’t stay for longer than a few days, I promise, but I need to be there for him.”

  Parker gripped her wrists, his face as solemn as she had ever seen. “No, Katie, I’m sorry, but Luke specifically asked that I keep you away.”

  She flinched, as if he had slapped her. She sank back against the swing, eyes wet with shock. Her voice was a pained whisper. “But why, Parker?”

  He pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair. “I don’t know, Katie. All I do know is Luke is in a place he’s never been before – broken, defeated, angry at God. He doesn’t want to see anyone right now, even me, but I told him I was coming whether he wanted it or not. I called Brady, and he’s going with me for a few days, at least until the funeral.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Katie, listen to me. Luke’s world has fallen apart – the last thing he needs right now is to see the joy you and I have – the woman he loved, now engaged to his best friend.”

  She nodded dumbly, all energy depleted from her body. “All right, Parker,” she whispered hoarsely, “but tell him that I love him, will you? And that I’m sorry . . . so sorry.”

  He stood and pulled her to her feet, then squeezed her in a desperate hug. “I love you, Katie, and I’ll call you when I arrive.” He kissed her gently on the lips, then took her hand and led her to the door. He stroked a thumb along the curve of her jaw, his eyes raw with grief. “I need you to pray, as hard as you’ve ever prayed before. And don’t stop.”

  She watched as he strode down the steps and out through the gate, the mourning in her heart almost choking her air. He needed her to pray. She put her face in her hands and wept. As if there were anything else she could do. Her body trembled with sorrow and pain while anxiety clawed in her mind. “Oh, God, help Luke, please,” she whispered, her heart breaking for this man that she loved. “Be with him every step of the way and give him your peace . . .”

  Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

  A heave shuddered from Katie’s body as she sagged against the door. “Yes, your comfort, God, please . . . for Luke . . . and for us all.”

  21

  December 1930

  The day was bitterly cold, but Katie was wonderfully warm. She tucked the valet carrier that contained Lizzie’s bridesmaid dress close to her body, barely aware of the occasional snowflake that swirled in the brisk December air. A biting breeze lashed against her, but she never felt a thing other than pure contentment. And all the while, a smile bloomed beneath the plaid scarf wrapped around her head and mouth. In three weeks, she would be Mrs. Parker Riley, and Parker had just told her last night he wanted her to go to law school in the spring.

  The smile eased into a grin as she thought of her future husband. Since that very first kiss last Christmas, her feelings for him had deepened and grown from a dear friend to a dear man who quickened her pulse and spoiled her shamelessly. When she’d argued that the salary for the director of the BCAS could not possibly afford law school, he calmly informed her that it wouldn’t be his salary sending her, but his inheritance from his grandfather, which despite the dismal economy, was still considerable.

  Katie had been shocked. She’d had no idea he was a wealthy man because evidently it had slipped his mind to tell her. To Parker, it wasn’t important, apparently, but to Katie it certainly was. Sweet saints, a wealthy man who lived like a pauper! She shook her head, amazed at this man who was so full of surprises – all of them good. Over the months they’d been engaged, she had learned so much about him – about his passive relationship with his father, his keen dislike of confrontation, and his strong desire to serve others. Her smile tilted. Especially her! There was nothing Parker Riley wouldn’t do for her. She stopped, realizing with a touch of embarrassment that she’d gotten what the “old Katie” wanted all along – a rich man who was eating out of her hand.

  A gust of wind blew her scarf off her head and she tugged it back on, her warm feeling dissipating somewhat, but not from the chill in the air. She frowned as she continued down Harper Street toward Lizzie’s house, a niggle of guilt stealing her warmth. True, Parker let her have her way most of the time, but he was still in charge, she argued to herself, like
at the BCAS. She quickened her pace to sprint across the street, determined to beat the car that was approaching. She huffed to the other side and shot a menacing glance at the man who had immediately honked his horn. With a lift of her chin, she returned her thoughts to the man she would marry.

  No, at the BCAS, Parker was definitely the boss, and she usually did what he said. She slowed her pace to catch her breath, nodding at a postman who hurried by. Well, some of the time, she supposed, and worried her lip again. She halted at the next street to wait for several cars to pass and sighed. None of the time, actually, she finally realized. But could she help it if Parker was just so wonderfully easygoing, so gloriously permissive, so unlike her father?

  Thoughts of Patrick O’Connor softened the sting of her guilt. It was her father who’d kept her from total ruination as much as she hated to admit it. His stubborn personality had always gone head-to-head with hers and usually won, which had only hardened her determination to be in control – of her life, her heart, and her money. She shuddered to think what might have happened if he hadn’t reined her in, a spoiled brat that nobody could love.

  The sun crept behind a billow of clouds, and a faint shadow of regret crept into Katie’s heart. Regret that Parker wasn’t just the teeniest bit like her father in telling her no. As much as Katie had hated her father’s dictates, there had been a strange measure of comfort in the restrictions he’d imposed. As if she was being protected and cared for in a way she didn’t quite understand. Tears pricked her eyes as she dodged a man on a bike. Well, she understood now. For whom the Lord loveth he correcteth.

  “Thank you, Father,” she whispered, and her heart swelled with love for the man she respected most in the world. “And thank you, God, for giving him to me.” The wind died down, and her good mood returned. And thank you for Parker, she thought with a smile, a wonderful man who showers me with everything I could ever want.

  Picking up her pace, she turned the corner onto Lizzie’s street. Arched with oaks laden with ice, limbs merged over the cobblestones like a crystal canopy glinting in the sun. No, things were definitely perfect, Katie concluded with a lift of her chin. And for the first time in her almost twenty years, she was completely, undeniably content.

  Almost.

  The thought shocked her enough to halt her in her steps, frozen on the sidewalk in front of Lizzie’s house. For the second time that day, the sun ducked behind the clouds, taking with it the warm glow in which she had basked. Her mood suddenly darkened along with the gray pallor now tingeing the sky. She pressed the valet carrier to her chest and closed her eyes, hoping to shut out the one imperfection in her otherwise perfect world.

  In three weeks, she would see him again. It had been over a year since she’d laid eyes on Luke McGee . . . or twelve months, three weeks, three days . . . She took a quick glance at her wristwatch and frowned. “And seven hours to be exact,” she muttered, but then who was counting? Obviously she was, she thought with a groan. She vented with a sigh and mounted the steps to the front porch, her spirits suddenly lagging despite the festive reindeer and holly-berry wreath on Lizzie’s front door.

  Katie pressed the doorbell, glowering at the button-eyed reindeer as if it were all his fault. “I don’t want to see him again, God,” she whispered, knowing full well in her heart that she had no choice. He was Parker’s best friend and had been hers once as well, so why did it scare her so much to see him again? She closed her eyes and released a frail sigh, no longer pretending she didn’t know why. The simple fact was that she wasn’t sure – sure that the feelings were dead and gone. The feelings that had haunted her dreams for months until Parker’s ring had finally pushed them away. And even now, against her will, there were those rare occasions when her mind would play tricks on her – she’d turn a corner and see his powerful arms launching a basketball into a net while chatting with kids on a weedy parking lot. Or worse yet, those infrequent dreams where those same arms held her close, forcing the breath from her lungs so hard she would always wake up with a jolt.

  No! She could do this – for Parker, if not for herself. She would face him again and be done with it once and for all. Her spirits lifted along with her jaw. And in three weeks, it would all be over. She would say “I do” to Parker and “goodbye” to Luke McGee.

  She pushed the doorbell again and pressed her ear to the door, suddenly aware that Molly was crying. Katie grimaced at the sound, hoping the little tyke wasn’t hurt. At thirteen months, she was walking sooner than Teddy had and falling down more too, with plenty of scrapes and bruises to prove it. A grin lifted the corners of Katie’s mouth. Poor Lizzie – two active babies under the age of four. Good thing she and Brady seemed to have the patience of Job. Unlike her, Katie thought, as she rammed her finger to the doorbell for the third blasted time.

  The door opened a smidge. “Katie – what are you doing here?”

  Katie blinked at Lizzie, who appeared as white – and gray – as the burp rag draped over her shoulder. She held the valet up and arched a brow. “Your dress? For the wedding? Mother hemmed it, and I thought I’d bring it over so you could try it on.” Katie grimaced, trying to see past Lizzie as Molly howled in the next room. “Can I come in, or would you prefer I stay out here in the cold?” She squinted at Lizzie as she tried to wedge in the door. “Is Molly okay?”

  Lizzie clutched her arm, her whisper barely audible over the wail of Molly’s lungs. “She’s fine,” Lizzie said in a rush. She snatched the valet from Katie’s hand and tried to close the door. “Thanks, Katie, no need to stay. Tell Mother I’ll bring it back tomorrow, all right?”

  Katie butted the door open and frowned, brows puckered and mouth parted in surprise. “No, it’s not all right, Lizzie.” She pushed her way in and pulled off her gloves, shoving them in her pockets. “For pity’s sake, I could be frozen to the bone outside, waiting on you to let me say hello to my niece.” She started to unbutton her coat as she barged into the parlor and then stopped mid-stride, all air effectively trapped in her throat. And at that precise moment, “frozen to the bone” was only the tip of the iceberg.

  “Hi, Katie . . . it’s good to see you again.”

  Her jaw dropped like a rock. Good? To see Luke McGee standing in Lizzie’s parlor? With a baby slung over his shoulder as naturally as a sweat rag after a basketball game in the street? Katie tried to breathe. She couldn’t. To speak. Impossible – her tongue was welded to her mouth. She blinked. Good, at least something worked.

  Massive hands calmly rubbed the back of a pink bundle draped over his broad shoulder, obviously having no effect given the thrashing of two fat, little legs. Katie stared, amazed at his air of calm despite the ear-splitting wail of the child he held. Without question, Luke McGee was all male and easily one of the most athletic men Katie had ever seen, but for some reason she couldn’t ascertain, he looked as natural with a baby in his arms as he did with a basketball. The piercing blue eyes softened with apology as a hint of a smile flickered on his lips. “Katie’s hungry, I’m afraid. Lizzie was just going to feed her.”

  She blinked. He named his daughter Katie?

  Lizzie hurried over while Luke lifted the screeching bundle from his shoulder. He deposited a tender kiss on the baby’s head, which was little more than a riot of red curls, and the innocence of that one simple action stirred something deep inside of Katie. Something she’d seldom experienced except with her nieces – a warm feeling that felt so strange as she studied the look of abject misery on the baby’s face. God bless her, the little tyke is starving, Katie realized, and her stomach rumbled in sympathy.

  Lizzie shot Katie a nervous look as she took the baby from Luke. “I’ll feed her in the kitchen while you and Katie catch up. Come on in when you’re ready, Katie, and I’ll fix you some tea.” She bolted from the room, hand fluttering against the baby’s bottom like she was putting out a fire. The door swung shut with a whoosh, and in mere seconds, there was silence. A silence so thick, Katie wished the baby were back.

>   He pinned her with a solemn gaze. “You look good,” he whispered.

  She finally found her tongue. “Katie? You named her Katie?”

  A sad smile edged his mouth. “It was the name Betty chose early on, I’m afraid. She thought it sounded strong.” He threaded a hand through his hair and grinned. “Just so you know, I’m thinking of calling her Kat.”

  Katie nodded, still not able to believe he was standing before her, flesh and blood instead of a whim of her subconscious, haunting her during restless nights. He seemed leaner and certainly fairer than before, the smattering of freckles that had always faded into a tan now more pronounced against pale skin. Katie thought of the endless hours he’d spent outdoors all seasons of the year, and suspected he now spent them inside, caring for his daughter. The blue eyes still had the power to unsettle her, as evidenced by the racing of her pulse, although now they appeared tired and worn, as if he had aged years in the span of only one. She drew in a deep breath and laid a hand over the valet, which Lizzie had draped over a chair, then forced her gaze back to his. Her hands were sweating despite the cool of the room, and when she spoke, her voice shook. “I’m sorry, Luke, about Betty. It devastated all of us.”

  He nodded and for a moment, wetness glimmered in his eyes, but then he smiled, the effect warm and sad at the same time. “Congratulations. I’ll bet Parker spoils you rotten.”

  Heat braised her cheeks, but she managed a sheepish grin. “Well, he does have a problem saying no, I’ll admit, but I like to think I’ve grown up too and am, hopefully, not as demanding.”

  A twinkle lit his eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it, Katydid.”

  She chuckled, suddenly aware she’d been holding her breath. Drawing in some air, she leaned against the chair for support, absently fingering the leather seam of the valet that held Lizzie’s dress. “I didn’t expect to see you until the wedding. Does Parker know you’re in?”