"Nonsense, young man. I think it's very thoughtful what you've done. I'm enjoying this."
"Collin, what's this?" Patrick said, a slight frown furrowing his brow. "You bought presents for each of us? You shouldn't be spending your money that way, son."
"No, Mr. O'Connor, I wanted to. You and your family have made me so welcome. I feel like I'm part of the family at times, and you can't possibly know how wonderful that's been. I wanted some way to say thank you."
One by one, the presents were unwrapped, each one significant to Collin and the O'Connor who opened it: a book on chess strategies for Sean-so he could practice, Collin said; a carved wooden tray for Marcy-for all those cookies she baked over the last few weeks; and a pen and pencil set for Patrick, because every assistant editor needed one.
Faith's turn came, and her stomach knotted as all eyes focused on her, particularly those of Collin McGuire. She kept her gaze low, attempting to steady her shaking hands while carefully removing the tissue wrapping. Pulling the paper aside, she held up a lovely, leather-bound journal and placed it on her lap. She looked up to see Collin watching her reaction. Slowly she opened its cover. To Faith-a true woman of faith. Collin.
"It's a journal, you know, for your poetry. Charity says you've written poetry for years."
There was no way to stop it. The tears were coming, and Faith could do nothing but let them fall. She was touched and embarrassed and heartbroken, all at once. He couldn't possibly know how a gift like this would affect her. Unless, perhaps, Charity had told him-told him he'd been the focal point of much of the poetry she had ever written.
Across the room, her parents watched with concern. "Faith, are you all right?" her mother asked.
She nodded and forced a smile.
"See, I told you she would love it," Charity said.
Faith wiped her face with her hand. "Yes ... I love it. I need a new journal, Collin, truly I do. It's lovely. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome, Faith," he said quietly.
"Am I next?" Charity asked, eyes twinkling.
Collin reached into the bag, pulled out the last present, and handed it to her.
"It's so small. I like big presents myself," Katie announced.
"There's an old saying, Katie," Collin said with a smile. "Good things come in little packages. Look at you."
Katie giggled and squirmed into Marcy's lap. Collin turned his attention to Charity, grinning while she shredded the paper. With excitement in her eyes, she opened the tiny box and emitted a squeaky scream. Jumping up, she lifted a delicate diamond ring and screamed again.
Collin laughed and dropped to his knees, taking her hand in his. "Charity O'Connor, with your father's permission"Collin glanced at Patrick, who nodded-"will you be my wife?"
Ring in hand, Charity bounded into Collin's arms, and the two toppled to the floor. Her father seemed amazed, her mother speechless, and the rest of the family jubilant.
All but one. Faith sat on the chair like a statue, her body cold and her eyes fixed in a stare. He had told her he would, but she had never really believed it. Somehow, she'd always hoped, sometime, some way, things might be different. But now, reality fisted her heart and nausea cramped in her stomach as the family gathered around Collin and Charity.
Faith rose like a sleepwalker, slowly moving toward the door.
Marcy was suddenly at her side. "Faith, what's wrong?" she whispered, clutching her daughter's arm. "You look like death. Are you feeling all right?"
Marcy's voice was distant as Faith turned. She stared at her mother as if she were a stranger. Somewhere in the room, she sensed commotion and the faint sound of voices, farther and farther away until they disappeared altogether. And in a final swirl of darkness, with all energy depleted, she gave way to the spinning of the room, eyes flickering closed as she fell limp to the floor.
The room was so dark, and she was so tired, and something was terribly wrong. Faith strained to focus. The shadows of her bedroom came into view. Someone sat by her bed, hand on her arm, and she heard the imperceptible sound of lips moving. She tried to sit up. Fingers gently pushed her back. "Just rest, Faith. Your mother is preparing hot tea with honey, just as you like it."
The tension in her body melted at the soothing sound of Mrs. Gerson's voice, then seized in her chest as she jolted up in the bed. Collin ... Charity ... married. The thought of it was too much, and a choked sob wrenched from her lips.
Mrs. Gerson squeezed her hand. "There, there, my dear, God will see you through. 'Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy cometh in the morning.' This is the promise of the Lord. I know how difficult it maybe to believe right now, that you could ever experience joy again in the midst of this hurt, but you will, my dear."
Her voice shook with pain. "No, I can't believe it. It hurts too much, Mrs. Gerson."
"I know, Faith, but you will get past it-you will."
"I've tried. And just when I thought I had, he speaks to me or looks at me, and I'm right back where I started. Even so, I believed I was getting better. And now this ..."
Mrs. Gerson nudged a handkerchief toward Faith's clenched fist. Faith shuddered. "I ... I was just deceiving myself. I thought if I did the right thing, God would let me have him, but he hasn't! Collin will belong to my family, Mrs. Gerson, but he will never, ever belong to me. How am I supposed to live with that?"
"Faith, I've told you many times, 'God causes all things to work together for good for those who love the Lord'-even pain. I believe in my heart he can use this painful moment as the very thing to liberate you from your struggle of the heart. Until now, you've held on to the hope Collin would come to God, and then perhaps ... to you. And so, you never really let go. Now, you're forced to face the reality that someday soon, Collin will be Charity's husband, and you have no choice in the matter. I believe God will use the pain of it, the finality of this engagement, to help you let go."
A sigh quivered from Faith's lips as she dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief. "I know you're right." She lifted her chin, then sniffed. "I'm not happy about it, mind you, but I know you're right. I suppose I'm going to need your prayers now more than ever, Mrs. Gerson."
"Yes, mine, and those of your parents."
The breath stifled in Faith's throat. "No, I can't tell my parents."
"I'm afraid you have little choice. Collin will be a part of your family. You will need strength and support, both spiritually and emotionally. I think you must."
"But if they knew Collin made advances, and that I felt this way, it would only cause problems. They've just begun to trust him."
"Yes, and maybe they shouldn't, not quite yet. I don't think that young man even trusts himself, based on what you've told me. No, Faith, I think you need the deterrent of your parents' knowledge. And you certainly need their prayer cover. Promise me you'll tell them."
Faith cowered back. "Tell them what? I'm in love with the man of my dreams? Oh yes, there's just one problemhe's engaged to my sister!"
Marcy stood in the doorway, paralyzed, nearly dropping the mug of tea in her hands. It can't be true! But it was. She'd heard it with her own ears.
"Mother!" Faith's voice was breathless.
Mrs. Gerson pivoted toward the door, then rose. "Marcy, I'll leave you and Faith to talk. Would you be kind enough to call Sean to escort me downstairs?"
Marcy nodded dumbly, taking Mrs. Gerson's hand and ushering her to the landing. She summoned Sean before reentering the room. Silently she lowered herself to the bed.
Why hadn't she seen it? She'd noticed the stiffness between Faith and Collin as they spoke, when they spoke, but it never occurred to her why. She'd seen the sadness in Faith's eyes whenever he was around, but dismissed it as nothing more than Faith longing for a beau of her own. And the coldness between Charity and her sister, well, that had been going on for so long now, Marcy realized she had simply learned to accept it. Suddenly, it all came into focus, and the picture made Marcy ill. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around her
daughter.
"I'm sorry, Mother. I wanted to tell you, but I knew how you and Father felt about him. It made you both so angry that Charity cared for him. How could I tell you I did too?"
"How long have you felt this way?" Marcy whispered.
"From the moment I first saw him, he's the only boy I've ever thought about, ever written about in my journal. We were friends, briefly, my freshman year. Oh, Mother, he was an amazing person before his father died. He was handsome and kind and gentle and good-everyone loved him. I couldn't help myself. I'd never met anyone like him before. He stole my heart before I even knew it. I hoped it was a schoolgirl crush that would pass. And it might have, if .. .
Marcy sat up straight. "If what?"
Faith looked away.
"If what, Faith? You must tell me. Has something happened between you and Collin?"
Faith nodded, her gaze fixed on the handkerchief wadded in her hand. Her voice was barely a whisper. "He kissed me, Mother, more than once."
Marcy gasped. "When ... where?"
"Once in the park. He followed me there, wanting to know why I had caused trouble between Charity and him. And then another time, late at night, on our back porch."
"What?"
"He threw a rock at the window. He wanted to see Charity, but she was asleep, and Father had asked for my help in keeping him away from her, so I went down instead."
Marcy stood, then began to pace. She wheeled to face her daughter, hands locked on her hips. "Faith, did you lead him on in any way?"
Faith's eyes widened. "No, Mother, I didn't, honestly. In the park, we got into an argument and then ... well, it just sort of happened. I think he was as surprised as I was, really. And then ... the night on the porch, it was late, and he'd been drinking. He came up behind me. He thought I was Charity."
"I knew from the beginning thatboy was trouble," Marcy sputtered.
Faith reached for her mother's hand, pulling her to sit down. "Mother, please-inside Collin's a good man, I know it. I saw it, long before the pain of his father's death changed him. I couldn't have felt this way if he wasn't. Please don't tell Father; he would get so upset. I don't mean to cause trouble. I just want to get over it, but I don't know how. And now ... well, now he's going to marry Charity, and he'll always be around." Her voice sank into a sob.
"Not necessarily," Marcy said, her tone dangerously quiet.
Faith's head jerked up. "No! I don't want to ruin what Charity has. Collin loves her. It's not his fault I have feelings for him."
Marcy's eyebrow slashed up. "Oh, really? And he had nothing to do with it, I suppose?"
Faith blushed. "Yes, he did, but he belongs to Charity now. He wants to marry her, and he should. She loves him. I don't want to cause any problem, Mother. I just want to be free from this. Will you help me? Please?"
For a moment, Marcy stewed, angry with Collin and heartbroken for her daughter. Then all at once, she folded Faith in her arms. "That young man is really something," she said, her tone as irritable as her frame of mind.
Faith leaned hard against her mother's chest. "He is at that," she said, gulping a shaky breath. "But for me, I pray he goes from something to nothing in record time."
Marcy tried to smile, but all she could think about was one thing: what in the world was she going to tell Patrick?
"How is she feeling?" Patrick inquired when Marcy reappeared. She noticed how quickly Collin glanced up from the chess game he was playing with Sean. Oh, how she wanted to shake him! He fit in so well, just like family, and now it hurt that she couldn't quite trust him.
She smiled weakly at her husband. "She's fine-just coming down with something, I think. I told her to sleep in through breakfast, and maybe even church." Marcy looked at the clock on the mantel. "Goodness, speaking of breakfast, I better start; you all must be starved. Charity, Elizabeth, I'll need your help."
"Mine too, Mama?" Katie was already up, bounding toward the kitchen when Marcy scooped her up and deposited her into Patrick's lap.
"No, darling, Daddy's wanting to read that new book to you. Will you let him?"
Katie giggled and burrowed into Patrick's lap as Marcy handed him the book. She kissed Katie on the head and Patrick on the cheek. He smiled.
The morning passed in a blur of activity. They enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, followed by more time in the parlor, talking, playing games, and admiring presents before Sean escorted Mrs. Gerson home and the family headed off to St. Stephen's.
The clock chimed 1:30 p.m. as they returned. Marcy checked on Faith, who had actually managed to doze. Although she seemed some better, Marcy was sure she was in no condition to face Collin quite so soon. She kissed her on the cheek and headed downstairs. On the landing, she spotted Collin and Charity standing in the foyer, putting their coats on while Patrick stood at the door.
"Where are you going?" she asked. Her high-pitched tone caused all three to turn in apparent surprise.
"Collin wants Charity to meet his mother," Patrick explained, his eyes puzzled.
"Oh! When will you be bringing her back, Collin?"
Collin appeared uncomfortable at Marcy's tense tone. He managed a nervous smile. "Mrs. O'Connor, I promise I'll have her home right after dinner, safe and sound."
"And what time will that be?"
He blinked, clearly taken aback.
Charity shot her mother a pleading look. "Mother, really! We're engaged. Doesn't that change anything? Father, doesn't it?"
Confusion knitted Patrick's brow as he stared from Marcy's tense face to Charity's irked expression. Collin watched Marcy closely, not saying a word.
"Marcy, I told Collin since they're engaged, I would allow Charity to go out with him," Patrick said. "You don't have any objections, do you?"
Collin could feel his hands sweating. Surely Faith hadn't said anything ...
"Marcy?"
She swallowed hard and shook her head. "No ... I suppose not ... as long as we take it very slow."
"Oh, Mother!" Charity groaned.
Collin gently touched her arm. "Charity, it's all right. You're lucky to have parents who care about you. And I'm lucky too, that they've been so gracious to me." He looked up at Marcy, his eyes intent. "But, it's their trust I want more than anything. If your mother's not comfortable ..."
Their eyes locked, and Collin knew. Knew that Marcy was fully aware he was the reason for Faith's fainting spell. His heart constricted.
"Not completely, but I do want to trust you, Collin. I've grown quite fond of you; we all have. I would like to believe nothing would jeopardize that."
She spoke of Faith, and they both knew it. Collin nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on hers. "I understand, Mrs. O'Connor. Please believe me-I would never hurt your daughter."
"Mother, please!" Charity was on the verge of tears. Patrick stood holding the door, the bridge of his nose creased in unspoken question.
"I believe you, Collin. We'll see you after supper, then."
Collin took a deep breath and nodded. Turning, he shook hands with Patrick and quickly steered Charity through the door. Patrick closed it behind them and leaned back, his hand dangling over the knob as his brow quirked high. "And now, would you mind telling me, darlin', what was that all about?"
Marcy descended the steps to stand in front of Patrick. "Oh, I'll tell you, my love, but I'm not too sure you'll want to hear it." Taking his hand in hers, she led him upstairs to their room and shut the door behind.
Barely beyond the front yard, Charity grabbed Collin's arm and dragged him toward Mrs. Ellis's overgrown holly bush. In the process, he almost tripped, and Charity's giggle was pure mischief.
"What are you doing?" he asked, laughing.
She pulled him close, throwing her arms around his neck. "Kiss me, Collin. It's all I've been thinking about!"
For a split second, the breath stilled on his lips, and then slowly he brushed her mouth with his own. Thrusting herself against him, she returned his kiss with passion long overdue, and Collin's s
tomach rolled as he lunged away. "Charity, I made a promise to your parents. I need to win their trust ..."
She tossed her hair over her shoulder with the degree of defiance he'd always found so attractive. The look in her eyes was hard to miss. "What about my trust, Collin? Win mine!"
He hesitated and then slowly wrapped his arms around her waist. Her lips were warm and moist as he caressed them with his own, and their soft touch should have ignited a fire in him. Instead, a cold wave of fear crawled in his belly as he found himself aching for her sister. He could hear Charity's breathing, rapid and intense, the way his should have been, and the fear exploded into anger. No! This was not happening! She was not going to do this to him. He was in control of his destiny. He would choose whom he'd love, not some make-believe god, and certainly not the woman who blindly gave her soul to him. Roughly he drew Charity in, kissing her with enough force to take her breath away. He felt a fire stir deep inside, and he kissed her again, pressing her close until his thoughts were consumed only with her.
Breathless, she leaned against his chest and gazed up. "I love you, Collin," she said, her eyes aglow with passion.
"I love you too, Charity," he lied and kissed her again, putting to rest for the moment any doubts she might have had.
The level of control Patrick maintained following a bout of rage never ceased to amaze his wife. She sat on the edge of their bed, hands folded quietly in her lap, watching as he calmly paced the floor. With his shoulders slightly hunched and his brow crimped, he seemed older than his thirty-nine years. Marcy sighed and patted the bed beside her. "Patrick, you've been pacing for twenty minutes now. Come, sit down."
Nodding, he settled beside her, and the two of them stared straight ahead into nothing. "How could this have happened, Marcy?" he whispered. "Our Faith-Collin hardly seemed like the type of man she'd be interested in."
"I don't know, my love. I think Faith has always seen in Collin what we've just begun to see. He's an incredible young man with great potential, just one who happened to get off track. He'll make a fine husband for Charity, I think. But I am very worried about Faith where he's concerned." Marcy idly rubbed her husband's hand. "Not just her feelings for him, understand, but perhaps that Collin may have feelings for her as well."
A Passion Most Pure (Daughters of Boston, Book 1) Page 15