As if his defenses had wavered, he sighed and plunged his hands in his pockets, his eyes suddenly tender. “As God is my witness, Katie, there is nothing on earth I would rather do, but I just can’t.” He exhaled again and slashed a hand through his hair. “Not now . . . maybe not ever.”
“But, why?” She took a step forward, hurt dimming the hope in her eyes.
“Why?” His thick, blond brows angled high as disbelief furrowed his face. His tone was clipped. “Because Parker’s been gone all of a week, and Betty barely over seven months, that’s why. How can I even think of being happy when both of them – ” His voice cracked, and he put a hand to his eyes.
Empathy swelled in her chest. “Luke,” she whispered, “it’s what Parker wants – for you to be happy – and Betty would too.”
He looked up then, guilt glazing his eyes. “Maybe so, Katie, but I’m just not ready.” A lump shifted in his throat as he looked away. “Maybe not for a long, long time.”
She nodded and drew in a deep breath, deflecting her hurt with a hint of tease. “Well, goodness, jilted twice in one week – a girl could get a complex.” She returned to her desk to retrieve her purse from the bottom drawer, then walked to the coat rack and slipped on her coat. “But it’s all right, McGee – I’ll wait.” She moved toward the door and turned, buttoning her coat with a hike of her brow. “Just don’t take too long,” she said, tugging at her gloves. “I’d like to be young enough to land somebody else if I have to. You planning on being here a while? Because if you are, the coffee’s still hot. Sludge, but hot.”
He smiled the first smile she’d seen since Parker left – a tired one, but at least it wasn’t riddled with guilt. “Yeah, I haven’t been able to bring myself to go into Parker’s office all week, but I think it’s time. He mentioned some pet projects he wanted me to handle, but first I’ll walk you home – ”
“Nope.” With a twirl of her scarf around her neck, she gave him a sympathetic smile. “You stay and finish. I’ll take the trolley. There are a few stores I need to stop in on the way home, and with what’s on your desk right now, you don’t have time to spare.”
“Thanks, Katie,” he whispered. “For everything.”
Her lips twisted. “Yeah, well, if I am going to make any headway with the new boss, I have no choice but to be on my best behavior.”
A grin tipped his lips. “So there really is such a thing?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t push me, McGee – you need me.” She gave him her customary smirk. “See you Monday.” And with an ache in her heart, she quietly shut the door.
Luke stared at the bubbled glass, seeing only a sassy smirk and blue eyes that had more of a hold than he’d like to admit. “You need me,” she had said, and the words echoed in his brain like a prophecy of doom. He exhaled loudly and poured himself a cup of coffee – if that’s what you called it. It looked more like the newfangled Bosco chocolate syrup, he thought with a quirk of a smile, remembering Katie’s groans over Betty’s “weak” coffee. He took a sip and scrunched his nose as he made his way into Parker’s office, recalling the sugared coffee she’d delivered on her first day of work. He stopped and stared at Parker’s empty chair, and his grief slashed anew. Why, God?
With a tight press of his lips, he opened Parker’s top desk drawer and plucked out an envelope Parker had addressed to him. He headed into his own office, the feel of his old chair molding to his body with a measure of comfort and far fewer ghosts. He took another swig of hot coffee and ripped the envelope open, his heart heavy at first sight of the header – “Parker’s Pet Projects,” written, as usual, in a penmanship that was meticulous and precise. He stared at the first item on the list, and before he could swallow, the coffee spewed from his mouth.
1) Marry Katie.
Heat shot up the back of his neck as he hurled the list back on the desk. “You’re a real comedian, Riley,” he said with a grind of his jaw. He sucked in a deep breath, his throat as parched and dry as if he had just swallowed hot sand. He leaned back to rest his head on the back of his chair and closed his eyes to pray, thirsty for God’s direction in his life. “Help me, God,” he whispered. “Help me to know what to do . . .”
Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.
His eyelids peeled open as his heart started to race. He licked his dry lips. No! He couldn’t think that way. He needed to leave so Parker could come back. He sat up and put his head in his hands. This was supposed to be Parker’s life here, not his. Katie and the O’Connors were meant to be Parker’s family, never his. His life would be in New York with his daughter, where hopefully someday he’d realize the desire of his heart with a wife and family of his own.
Family. The very word had such a stranglehold on his heart that tears sprang to his eyes. It was something he had never really had, only glimmers here and there with Brady, Parker, and Betty. His craving for connection had driven him to street gangs once, a needy little boy so desperate to belong. So desperate for family.
God setteth the lonely in families . . .
And then all at once he saw Gabe setting the table for Marcy, and Patrick playing chess with his sons. He heard the chatter of Katie and her sisters as they giggled in the kitchen and the rumble of Sean’s laughter when he’d finally beaten Steven at chess. He could feel the vibration of the stairs as the grandkids tore up and down, filling the house with their happy shrieks, or the thickening in his throat whenever Brady greeted him with a hug. Water filled his eyes, but he could still see them all, heads bowed in prayer as their father blessed the meal and their mother gripped his hand. And in the midst of his tears, he saw Katie, the love of his life since he’d been a little boy.
He closed his eyes, and Betty’s words came to him along with her crooked grin, always trying to convince him to let go of the past and glory in the present. “Come on, Luke – make me a happy woman just once – embrace the moment.”
Air seized in his lungs, and his head shot up as tears blurred his eyes. Seconds slowed into eons. Was it possible? Could it be?
His love? His family?
A gift from God – and the best friend bent on serving him?
Luke jumped to his feet so fast, the chair rocked on its legs with a loud clatter. Heart hammering in his chest, he bolted out the door, not even stopping as he snatched his coat along the way. He burst through the downstairs glass double doors with such force that a woman passing by released a startled shriek.
“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile, “but I’m late getting . . . home.” The very word tingled on his tongue, forcing more tears to his eyes. He started to jog, his long legs passing the crowd as he scanned every face. “Parker, I’m such a fool,” he muttered, desperate to get his hands on Katie once again. His coat flapped open in the wind, but he never felt the cold, and when he saw a tiny blond in a red coat step out of Woolworth’s two blocks down the street, his heart caught in his throat.
“Katie!” he shrieked.
She didn’t turn and he kicked up his speed, grateful for basketball and baseball in the streets and the occasional night at the gym. His heart was pumping in his throat as hard as his legs were pumping down the street, and when he saw her move toward a streetcar with a shopping bag in her hand, his heart seized in his chest. “Katie!”
She turned then, and her body stilled on the sidewalk like the statues on Commonwealth Avenue Mall, all expression lost in the distance. He started to sprint, a pain in his side and his heart feeling as if it might explode, but he didn’t care. Within a quarter block, he saw her begin to move toward him and then break into a run.
“Katie!” he rasped, and when he grabbed her arms, he almost knocked her over on the spot, his breathing so ragged, he couldn’t utter a word.
Her chuckle filled the air with beautiful music. “That’s great, McGee, why don’t you just kill yourself so I have to run the office by myself?”
A grin tugged at his lips, but he forced a sobriety that defied the hope in his heart. “Katie, listen to me – I’ll stay, but I can’t promise anything more right now. Please understand that my heart aches for Parker and you, and I have to do everything in my power to make sure . . .”
Her smile softened to serious. “I understand, Luke, and I agree.”
He sucked in a fortifying breath. “But, that said, if Parker remains pigheaded and doesn’t come back . . . then maybe . . . maybe down the road, after the air clears and if things change between you and me . . .” With gentle urgency, he suddenly cupped her face in his hands, all his fears spilling forth like the tears on her cheeks. “Katie, I have a daughter,” he said, his voice choked with emotion.
She stroked a gentle hand to his face. “I know that, Luke, but I’m pretty sure she could use a mother.”
“But it wouldn’t be easy . . .”
“I know that too. But nothing has ever been easy with you, and I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“I’ll never be rich,” he argued, gently pushing the hair from her eyes.
A smile tilted her lips as she blinked away her tears. “I’ve learned that at times, money can be highly overrated.”
“I intend to wear the pants in my family . . .”
Her lips quirked. “I look so much better in a skirt, or haven’t you noticed?”
“But I want lots of kids . . .”
She hesitated. “We’ll talk.”
He thought of Parker, and his smile dimmed. “And I need time, Katie . . . maybe six months or more . . . to adjust . . . to get past Betty’s death and your engagement to Parker.” A lump shifted in his throat. “To make sure this is the right thing to do . . . and to pray.”
Wetness glimmered in her eyes. “Like I said, Luke, I’ll wait.”
He paused, searching those blue eyes that held so much hope, so much love, so much desire. He swallowed hard, almost shy for the first time in his life. With a nervous shift of his throat, he plunged his hands in his pockets and gave her a shaky smile. “Okay, then,” he said with a loud exhale of air, “until then . . . friends?”
She caressed his stubbled cheek. “Forever and a day, McGee.”
He cleared his throat and stepped back to distance himself, desperate to steel his feelings. “Which means, Katie, I can’t handle anything more right now – not expectations on your part, not attraction on mine, and not badgering to get your own way. We both need friendship to get through this. And I won’t take the job unless you can promise me that’s all there will be and nothing more. No flirting, no plots of seduction like your sisters did with Brady, and no romance. Just good friends, pure and simple – like we were before.” He extended an awkward hand, determined that for once in her life, Katie O’Connor would follow his lead. “Deal?”
A kaleidoscope of emotions shifted across her beautiful face, from a flicker of hurt, to relief, and finally respect. She squared her shoulders and placed her hand in his to give it a firm shake. “You have my word, McGee,” she said with a somber nod. She bent to retrieve her shopping bag and then shot him a crooked smile. “About the friendship, that is. As far as the BCAS? No guarantees, Mr. Priss. See you on Monday.”
She turned and made her way to the trolley while he watched with his heart in his throat. “Be on time, Katie Rose,” he called. “We have lots to do, and I don’t want you to be late.”
She paused on the step of the trolley and turned, stealing his breath with a mischievous smile. “I’ll be there, McGee, probably before you. But it’s time you learn . . . it’s never too late.” She gave him a jaunty wave and disappeared inside the car, and Luke felt as if his heart might burst. With a silly grin, he turned and shoved his hands in his pockets, her final words flooding his soul with peace.
Never too late. Water rimmed his eyes as he forged his way through the crowd.
No, with God, apparently not.
23
May 10, 1931
Okay, what’s wrong with this picture?” Katie’s lips squirmed as she shucked the corn with a vengeance. She cocked a hip against the counter, accentuating the scalloped layers of her floral sundress as it flared at her calf. “It’s Mother’s Day, and the men are outside playing horseshoes while the ‘mothers’ are stuck in a hot kitchen.”
“True . . . ,” Charity said with a slow drawl and a quick peek out the kitchen window. A breeze fluttered both the cream eyelet curtains and the sheer ruffle of Charity’s pale blue organza blouse, infusing Lizzie’s spacious kitchen with the scent of fresh-mown grass, newly hewn mulch, and smoked meat. The ping of horseshoes could be heard above the rumble of men’s laughter and the squeals of children, creating the perfect spring day. “But keep in mind that the children belong to the fathers for the day.” She cracked a hard-boiled egg on the counter with a diabolical grin and began to peel it for the deviled eggs. “And with the shenanigans that Henry’s been pulling lately, that sure says ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ to me.”
“And they are handling the barbecue,” Lizzie defended, closing her eyes as she sniffed the aroma of grilled meat. “Although Brady would do just about anything for barbecue.” She popped an olive in her mouth from the relish tray she’d just finished and shot Charity a grin. “Short of watching Henry, that is.”
Marcy chuckled as she shredded slaw at the sink. “He sounds like your father. Insists he wants his tombstone to read, ‘He loved barbecue.’”
The spicy smell of pepper drifted in the air as Faith seasoned the potato salad with a hefty dose. “Oh, that’s Collin too. Must be a primal thing, left over from the days when cavemen bopped their woman over the head and cooked game over an open fire.”
Charity sneezed and then glanced up with a squint of her eyes. “Ooooo . . . now there’s an idea to keep Henry in line.”
A soft chuckle that could only be Emma Malloy carried on a breeze as she finished squeezing lemons for the iced tea. “Or you.”
“Nice one, Emma,” Katie said with a grin. She dropped an armful of corn into a boiling cauldron of water. “Talk about ‘grilling’ and putting someone’s feet to the fire.”
With another sharp crack of an egg, Charity charred her sister with a mock glare as a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “Speaking of ‘putting one’s feet to the fire,’ Katie Rose . . . I’m guessing our Luke McGee likes his barbecue smoked a long, long time?”
Heat that had nothing to do with the steam from the pot blasted Katie’s cheeks with an uncomfortable warmth. “Luke and I are nothing more than friends, Charity, and you know it. And I refuse to even think of the possibility of anything more until it’s a reality in that man’s mind, if and when that ever happens. Besides, he’s my boss, and neither of us are looking to complicate things right now.”
“Mmm-hmm. I’d say things are pretty complicated already,” Charity said with a slant of her lips. “Given the fact you work with the man day in and day out and he still comes for dinner two times a week.”
“To see Gabe and nothing more,” Katie argued. She slapped a wilted strand of hair from her eyes, wondering why her stomach was suddenly in knots.
Marcy tucked an arm around Katie’s shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Yes, Gabe, certainly, but also you,” she said quietly. “Luke will come around, Katie . . . when he’s ready.”
Katie swallowed hard and straightened her shoulders, fighting the threat of moisture in her eyes. With a press of her jaw, she hefted more corn in her arms and dumped it into the scalding pot, wishing it were Luke McGee instead. “I’m not so sure he’ll ever be ready, Mother. It appears friendship suits the man just fine.”
Lizzie laid a gentle hand to her sister’s arm. “Betty’s been gone only a little over a year, Katie, and I think that was a milestone for Luke, I really do. Since he and Kat moved in with us last year, I’ve learned just how hard losing both Betty and Parker has been for him, not to mention the guilt he feels over coming between Parker and you.” Lizzie ducked her head to smile into Katie�
��s eyes. “But he’s also told us just how much your friendship has meant to him, especially these last six months.”
Katie nodded and put a hand to her eyes, embarrassed by the sting of tears.
As soft as a whisper, Lizzie eased Katie’s hand to clasp it in her own, forcing her sister to look at her. She gave her palm a reassuring squeeze. “But two weeks ago, after Luke took Kat to visit Betty’s grave on the anniversary of her death, he told us he also went to spend time with Parker. And I’m not exactly sure what happened that weekend, but when Luke returned home, I swear he was a different man. Lighter, happier, as if a huge weight had been lifted.” Lizzie touched a palm to Katie’s cheek. “Trust him, Katie . . . and trust God. I promise, neither will let you down.”
Katie sniffed and pushed the wetness from her eyes. “I know you’re right, Lizzie, because Luke’s told me so himself – over and over – how much our friendship has meant. But it’s just so hard, loving him like I do and wanting it to be more.”
Massaging her shoulders from behind, Faith leaned forward to give Katie a sympathetic smile. “It is hard to be patient, I know. We’ve all been there, Katie, each of us with the men in our lives, including Mother.” Her lips curved in a crooked smile. “Apparently God thinks nobody teaches patience better than Irish men. Must be a gift.”
“Or a curse.” Charity banged the last of the hard-boiled eggs on the counter with a particularly nasty crack. She glanced up through narrow eyes. “Hey . . . you don’t suppose God’s Irish, do you?”
Emma chuckled. “I suspect he might be, at least in this family.”
Katie sucked in a deep breath and attempted a grin. “Thanks for the pep talk, everyone. I’m okay now, really.” She glanced at the pot of steaming corn. “Guess I should turn it up to a boil, which,” she said with a lift of her brow, “is exactly what I’d like to do to Luke McGee.”
A devious grin sprouted on Charity’s face as she pulverized the egg yolks with a fork. “Ooooo . . . a girl after my own heart. So, why don’t you?”
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