by BJ Hoff
Even so, there was something here that needed saying, and he commenced to do so. “Your dangerous and foolish scheme might have ended in a terrible tragedy, which you have no doubt realized by now. As it was, your betrayal caused Roweena much pain, in addition to the physical injury she sustained. Nor was wee Eveleen unscathed by your treachery. The child was terrified. She had nightmares for weeks afterward.”
Kane’s expression was one of abject misery, but when he started to speak, Gabriel stopped him. “To their credit, neither bears you any grudge. Roweena’s heart is a forgiving one, as is the child’s.”
Kane shook his head, as if to clear it. “I—don’t know what to say.”
“Well, whatever you might want to say, it would be best said to Roweena and the child, I’m thinking. We will set an extra place. If you decide to come, you will be made welcome.”
He turned as if to go, then stopped. “There was one other thing—”
Kane, his expression still somewhat stunned, gave a distracted nod.
Gabriel was suddenly uncertain as to whether he should even ask. But he had to know. He had to.
“The night…you were shot. You said something—”
Again he stopped, unable to get the words out.
Kane was watching him, one eyebrow raised in a question.
“You said…that Roweena—that you saw her love for me in her face. You said that she loved me, that she meant to die for me—”
Again Kane nodded, his gaze raking Gabriel’s face. “You honestly didn’t know, then? You had no idea?”
“No.” Gabriel looked away. “And I can scarce believe it, despite what you seem to think—”
“Gabriel,” Kane said softly, “I know what I saw. And you’d see it, too, if you would only open your eyes. Roweena is no child for you to watch over. She is a woman, and make no mistake, man, she’s in love with you.”
Gabriel finally managed to expel the breath he’d been holding. He looked at Brady Kane, half expecting to see a sneer. Instead he saw something that could have almost been taken for a kind of affection.
“I must go,” he said again, now somewhat embarrassed and anxious to get away. “You think about tomorrow. It will be awkward for you at first—for all of us, no doubt—but it will be all right. If you want to come, that is.”
“Gabriel—”
Gabriel turned back to him, waiting.
“I suppose I should thank you. For everything.”
Gabriel could not stop a smile. “That would seem to be in order.”
“But I still don’t pretend to understand why you did it,” Kane said. “Roweena…Evie…they could have been killed. You as well. Because of me. You could have had me prosecuted! Yet you didn’t. I don’t see how you…how any of you…can possibly forgive what I did. And I certainly don’t understand why you went out of your way to help me. No one would have blamed you if you had just let me die.”
“I expect the Lord God would have made things sorely miserable for me if I had done that. I don’t know what to tell you, lad. There is no disputing the fact that you are a thickheaded, self-indulgent, reckless young fool.”
He saw Kane wince, but there was no easy way to say this. “I’ll not deny that at first I tended to you somewhat grudgingly. I wasn’t at all convinced that you were worth my efforts. In truth, I believe I was more inclined to snap your neck than lend you a hand. But for some reason known only to him, God had other ideas, and he pressed me until I simply had to obey. Now that is the only answer I can give you, whether you understand it or not. I expect God merely used me to keep you from destroying yourself, so he might yet have his way in your life.”
Brady shook his head. “Gabriel, Gabriel—you are a study! Why would you even think the Almighty would want anything to do with the likes of me? I’m sure he prefers to deal with a better class of fellow than myself, and who would blame him?”
Gabriel tried to think, tried to pray at the same time. Lord, there must be some way to penetrate that thick skull and that cynical heart. Show me, for I am at my wit’s end with this boy.
Something occurred to him, and he leaned against the door frame, considering. “There was a man,” he finally said, “who, if truth were told, more than likely could have matched you sin for sin, Brady Kane. Indeed, in many ways, I would say there is much resemblance between the natural man in each of you. Like you, he was a man of the arts: a singer, a writer of songs, a fine musician. He was also a sensual, passionate man, at times to his own destruction.
“This man, he probably didn’t miss much when it came to mucking up his life. He lied when it was expedient. At times he manipulated, at least when it was in his best interests. He even feigned madness,” Gabriel went on, with a slight shake of his head, “in order to extricate himself from a nasty piece of business. He was also a murderer. He slaughtered men by the thousands and ten thousands. Perhaps worst of all, he sent one of his own men—a good man, it would seem—to his death…just so he could seduce the man’s wife.”
“Even I’m not that bad,” Brady muttered, cracking a sardonic smile.
Gabriel didn’t answer his smile. “He did all that and other terrible things as well, this man. And yet, the Lord God, didn’t he call him ‘a man after my own heart’ in spite of his sinfulness? He loved this man. He treasured him. He prospered him, even made him a king. And through this man—this philandering, scheming, often devious, bloodstained man—God established the lineage of his only beloved Son, Jesus the Christ.”
Gabriel stopped. “Perhaps you’ve heard of him? He was David, son of Jesse. Writer of the Psalms. King of Israel. And in many ways, a man like you, Brady Kane. Only wiser.”
He stopped, aware of the other’s now unwavering attention. “David, don’t you see, was wise enough to know that no matter how far he ran or how grievously he sinned, he could not escape the love of his Father God. He was human, and so he sinned. But he was loved with a divine love, and so he was forgiven. And always, always, he was wise enough to accept his God’s forgiveness and begin anew.”
Gabriel looked at the young American long and hard. “That is the mark of a real man, I’m thinking. A man of strength and wisdom will not spurn his Creator’s love and forgiveness. He will not lightly reject the divine opportunity to begin anew. And if you would once take the time to read that copy of the Scriptures I left lying on your desk some weeks ago,” Gabriel said, inclining his head toward the desk where Kane sat, “you would find instance after instance of other men who gained such wisdom only after reaching the point where all seemed lost and hopeless.”
He turned then and opened the door, but Brady Kane’s voice stopped him before he could step outside.
“Gabriel?”
He turned back. The American was standing now, a faint, wry smile softening his features. “So long as we’re speaking of wisdom, I have to submit that a true man of wisdom would surely recognize the love of a woman when he is faced with it day in and day out.”
Gabriel stared at him, not knowing whether to berate him for his Yankee insolence or salute him for his boldness, given the tenuous state of their relationship. He did neither, instead merely lifted a hand in farewell, saying, “ ’Tis Christmas Eve, Brady Kane. I wish God’s peace on you.”
Then he left for home.
After Gabriel had gone, Brady stood staring at the closed door for a long time. He felt as edgy as a cornered cat, and he wanted a drink in the worst way. Yet he knew that if he weakened and somehow found the means to acquire a bottle, there would be no help for him this time. Gabriel had done more than any other man would have done. He wasn’t likely to find another savior next time around.
Besides, he hated the thought that he couldn’t lick this on his own. He had always prized his independence—or at least what independence Jack had allowed him. What did it say about him if he let himself become enslaved to something as crude as a bottle of whiskey?
He began to pace the room, thinking. Thinking about Gabriel Vaughan, who ha
d never known his birth parents but apparently hadn’t let it influence his life. He thought about Jack, who had tried his best to keep him from learning the truth about their parents. Yet even in the face of his still raw bitterness and shock, he knew that Jack had only meant to shield him.
Finally, he thought about a man named David, who seemed to have broken all the rules and yet had apparently been given more than his share of “second chances.”
Was that what Gabriel had been trying to do for him, Brady wondered? Give him a second chance?
He stopped in the middle of the room, clenching his fists. He still felt as if every nerve ending in his body was screaming in protest at his hard-won sobriety. But that was one thing he wouldn’t think about. He didn’t dare.
Just then, his hulk of a jailer—“Big Murt”—let himself back into the flat. He was carrying a piece of Brady’s luggage, and, without so much as blinking, walked up to Brady and set it down at his feet.
“Gabriel told me I should give you back your belongings now,” he said. At the same time, he handed Brady the key to the flat. After a moment, he smiled, saying, “Well, then, I expect I will be on my way now. Best of luck to you, Brady Kane.”
The only sound in the flat seemed to be that of Brady’s hammering heartbeat as he stood contemplating his sudden solitude. The key in his hand felt as if it were burning his skin. He looked from it to the door, then turned, crossed the room to the desk, and placed the key on top of it.
After a moment, he sat down and, with slow and precise movements, folded Jack’s letter and returned it to the envelope, tucking it inside the desk drawer for now. He would think about his brother later.
Along with a lot of other things.
For a moment, he sat staring at his hands, which were trembling slightly. Finally, he stirred, and, picking up the small, worn Bible lying where Gabriel had placed it, began to thumb through its pages.
41
CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE CLADDAGH
I follow a star
Burning deep in the blue,
A sign on the hills
Lit for me and for you.
JOSEPH CAMPBELL
That evening they lit the three-branched candle, to commemorate the Holy Trinity. Later they would also light the large Christmas candle, which would burn through the night to show the Christ child that he was welcome in this house.
They took their time over their food, and when they had finally finished, Gabriel pulled away from the table, smiling contentedly. “I’m thinking ’tis a good thing altogether that we do not indulge ourselves like this more than once a year,” he said, pulling back a bit from the table and thumping his stomach. “Else I would no longer be able to squeeze through my own doorway.”
Roweena returned his smile, thinking that she could not remember a time when Gabriel had weighed a pound more or less than he did today.
He had returned late, too late for any discussion before the supper. But to Roweena’s relief, he had seemed more himself this evening, teasing Eveleen and offering frequent and high praise for the food.
As he had at the beginning of the meal, Gabriel now led them in a prayer, this time an evening blessing. He kept his head up, to make certain Roweena could read his lips:
“In thanks we came to this table, sweet Lord and Savior…In thanks we rise and ask your angels round our hearth, your spirit in our heart, your blessing on the heads of all who love and serve you in this house.”
Roweena rose immediately to remove the dishes, but to her surprise, Gabriel lifted a hand to stop her. “Let it wait for a time, and I will help you later.”
Roweena scarcely knew what to do. She never allowed Gabriel’s help in the preparation of a meal or in tidying up afterward. It simply was not done.
As she stood there, watching him in confusion, he turned to Evie. “I would speak with Roweena alone now, lass. Why don’t you go along and ready yourself for bed?”
The child thrust out her chin, but he forestalled any attempted protest. “Later, you may share a last cup of tea with us, and we shall look for the Christmas star. But only if I hear no grumbling in the meantime.”
Wee Evie looked at him, seemed to consider her options, then smiled. “Aye, but may I ask you first, Gabriel—”
He gave a nod, his expression tolerant and indicating that he already knew what was to come.
“Do you think,” said the child, “that the animals will kneel at midnight? To worship Baby Jesus?”
Roweena smiled at the tender look that crossed Gabriel’s rugged face. Evie had asked this same question every Christmas Eve since she could string words together—at least three years now. And every year, Gabriel could be depended upon to give the same answer.
“Why, I do not know, child,” he said, taking Evie onto his lap. “Though some say such a thing does happen. ’Tis a secret, is it not? But what I do know, and this is no secret, is that one day the world itself shall kneel before the Christ and confess him King.”
Satisfied, Evie locked her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on his bearded cheek, then hopped down and scurried off to the back of the cottage, disappearing behind the curtain.
For just a moment, Roweena’s heart swelled with love for the two of them. Then she realized that she was still standing, doing nothing, and habit again urged her to clear the table. She actually reached for a platter, but Gabriel caught her hand in restraint. “Sit down, lass. I want to talk with you.”
Confused by his behavior, Roweena sank down onto the chair directly across from him, waiting. She wanted to speak with him, too, after all, so perhaps this would be her opportunity. But she would have been more comfortable waiting until her work was finished.
Gabriel sat watching her for a moment before he spoke. Her faint smile looked a bit uncertain, and her hands were clenched on top of the table as if she didn’t quite know what to do with them. With some amusement, he realized the reason for her discomfort and, giving her a teasing smile, said, “This table will not quake beneath a few dishes left unwashed, lass.”
She returned his smile with a sheepish one of her own.
“First, tell me how it goes with your shoulder today,” he said. “Has it troubled you much?”
“Not a bit. Though won’t I be glad when my arm is no longer so useless?”
“Once you increase the exercises, you’ll see a marked improvement,” he reassured her.
He dragged his gaze away from her slender hands for a moment to study his own but remembered to lift his face before he spoke again, so she could read his words. “Roweena—if I have seemed somewhat—preoccupied of late, I wanted you to know that it’s nothing to be concerned about. In any event, I thought perhaps I should explain.”
She leaned forward a little, obviously intent on what he was about to tell her. So she had been worried after all. He should have told her sooner; he knew that now. But he hadn’t been at all sure how she would react, and he didn’t want to trouble her, as the injury to her shoulder…and the one to her heart…had not yet healed.
“First, I would like to ask you something,” he continued. “ ’Tis about Brady Kane, though if you would prefer that we not speak of him, I’ll understand.”
She tilted her head in a puzzled expression. “I don’t mind…talking about Brady. I seldom think about the…trouble he brought upon us. In my heart, I still feel sadness, but I have forgiven him. But what is it, Gabriel? Has something happened?”
Gabriel chose his words with great care, determined not to distress her. “I thought, at least for a time, that perhaps you had…feelings for him. I even asked you as much, if you recall.”
A sudden flush spread over her face, and she quickly looked away. Fearing that he had embarrassed her, Gabriel again touched her hand to get her attention. When she looked at him, he went on, as reassuringly as possible. “ ’Tis all right, lass, if that’s the case. There was no way you could have known—about the other. The two of you are young, after all, and Brady Kane is a well-favo
red young man. And you, Roweena, you are a lovely young woman. It was a natural thing entirely if you were taken with him, and him with you. But now that you know—that there could be the same blood between you, well, you mustn’t reproach yourself for anything you may have felt before you knew. Tell me you aren’t, lass.”
She looked at him, then shook her head. “No…not so much now. At first I felt…ashamed, you know? But in truth, my…feelings for Brady were so short lived and so fleeting that these days when I think of him at all, I usually try to think of him—I hope you don’t mind my saying this, Gabriel—but I try to think of him as my…brother.” She stopped, then added, “And it seems he could be.”
Gabriel studied her, not for the first time greatly touched by the gentleness of her spirit, her forgiving nature—her honesty. He squeezed her hand a little. “Well…that’s fine, then. So long as you have peace with it all. He is doing well now, by the way. I thought you’d want to know.”
She brightened a little. “You’ve seen him?”
He told her then what had transpired in the preceding weeks, told her everything, leaving out only the coarser details. Her gaze scarcely left his face during the entire account.
Only when he had finished did Gabriel realize that he was still holding her hand. He made no move, however, to release it until he saw that tears had pooled in her eyes. Dismay clenched his heart, and he immediately got up and went around the table and sat down next to her on the bench.
“Oh, lass, don’t, now! Don’t cry. He will be all right. I have surrendered Brady Kane to the Lord’s hands, and so must you. It’s for God to take care of him now.”
Awkwardly, he patted her shoulder. He was surprised by her reply when it came.
“But, Gabriel, I’m not weeping…for Brady Kane! I’m weeping because you are such…a kind, good man! To think that all this time…I have been worried for you, thinking that you were off somewhere…because you were troubled…and instead you were busy taking care of a man…who betrayed your trust!”