Unlikely Hero

by Marta Perry

  But the coolness didn’t leave her eyes. “That’s what you want, Pastor. Not necessarily what they want.”

  “They’ve got it in them,” he persisted, not sure why it mattered what Claire thought about his pet project.

  “At the moment, it looks like all they’ve got in them is trouble.”

  He followed the direction of her gaze. One of the kids had tossed a wadded-up napkin at Rick. He swung around instantly, fury darkening his eyes. Before Brendan could move, Rick threw his glass straight at the kid.

  The glass shattered against the door, sending shards of glass flying and spattering cider on the carpet. There was a moment of frozen silence in which no one moved.

  Then the door swung open. Harvey Gray stood there.

  Brendan heard a sharp gasp from Claire, reminding him that Harvey was her boss. He didn’t need any reminding that, as a member of the church council, Harvey was also one of his bosses.

  And at the moment, Harvey didn’t look as if he cared much for either of them.

  Claire’s stomach lurched unpleasantly. She couldn’t imagine what Harvey Gray was doing there, but it couldn’t be good. Harvey ran a tight ship. He wasn’t one to think teenage horseplay was normal or acceptable, even if the teens involved had been members of his church.

  And what would he feel about his trusted lieutenant being a part of it? She didn’t even want to think about that.

  “Mr. Gray.” She took a step forward, trying to sound as if it were normal to meet him in the church’s Fellowship Hall with a group of unruly street kids in attendance.

  Gray didn’t even bother to acknowledge her greeting. He turned toward Brendan, his piercing blue eyes focused on the pastor; his tall, attenuated figure, likened by the office wits to a bald stork, held stiff and tense.

  “Pastor, what is the meaning of this?”

  Brendan smiled, looking as relaxed as if it had been Gabe who’d come through the door instead of a prickly, influential member of his governing board. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight, Harvey. We’re having a job-training seminar this evening.”

  Gray’s gaze swept over the group, then moved to the broken glass and sticky stains. “I see. When did job training include damage to church property?”

  Of course, that was the first thing he’d focus on. Gray was obsessed with the value of property. He’d undoubtedly put the safety of the church building ahead of any other considerations.

  Be careful, Brendan. Be careful.

  “Just a little accident with the refreshments,” Brendan said easily. “No harm done.”

  No, no. That was exactly the wrong approach to take with Gray. Brendan should never belittle his concerns.

  Sure enough, Gray stiffened, drawing more erect and strengthening the resemblance to a stork. She had to stifle a nervous laugh. This wasn’t a laughing matter, although Brendan didn’t seem to realize that.

  “It looks to me as if a great deal of harm has been done.” He pointed. “Who will pay for cleaning the carpet?”

  “I’m sure a little spot cleaner will get that stain right up.” Brendan still didn’t give the impression that he took Gray seriously.

  Gray’s pale, cold gaze inspected the group of teenagers. Several of them shifted nervously from foot to foot, although Rick stood and glared. They saw trouble, if Brendan didn’t.

  “Who are these people, Pastor? I don’t recognize any members of our church here.”

  “No. These are some of the kids from the neighborhood who drop in to play basketball now and then. Claire was kind enough to agree to do a job-application session with them.”

  Don’t do me the favor of drawing attention to me. But it was too late. It had been from the moment Gray walked in.

  He hadn’t questioned her about why she was there. That wasn’t his way. But he was putting a mark against her in that mental ledger he kept on everyone who worked for him.

  “I assume the session is now over.” His tone made it clear it had better be.

  “Well, no, we were just taking a break.”

  Brendan was being remarkably obtuse when it came to relating to someone as influential as Harvey Gray. Agree with him, she wanted to shriek. Just agree with him.

  Luckily, the kids seemed to recognize what Brendan didn’t. They were already filtering out the back door, some of the braver pausing long enough to snatch up a few more doughnuts from the boxes.

  Brendan shrugged. “I guess we are finished for the night.”

  “I’d suggest that you’re finished for good.” Gray’s tone was silky.

  Agree, she cried silently. Just agree.

  Brendan’s jaw tightened, as if he finally got it. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Brendan,” she began, but neither of them seemed to be paying any attention to her.

  “And I don’t think the board is aware of these extracurricular activities of yours with a bunch of hoodlums.”

  Claire heard, only too well, the undertone of menace in the words.

  “That fact that they don’t belong to the church doesn’t make them hoodlums. Or gangbangers.” She could feel Brendan’s tension as surely as if she’d been touching him instead of standing several feet away. “I see them as part of my ministry here.”

  Gray seemed to weigh the words. Then he nodded slowly. “I see. In that case, we may need to evaluate just what your ministry is.”

  Sending a last, disdainful look at the stain on the carpet, Gray turned and stalked out of the room. The door swung shut behind him.

  Brendan frowned at the closed door for a long moment. Finally he shrugged, turning to her. “I’m sorry that disruption cut your session short tonight. We’ll have to schedule another time.”

  She could only stare at him. Did he really not understand what was at stake?

  “Tell me something, Brendan. When is your contract here up for renewal?

  For an instant he stared at her blankly. “In the spring. But you don’t think—”

  “He was threatening you.” A wave of anger swept over her. “Are you too naive to realize that?”

  “Of course he wasn’t threatening me. You’re overreacting. Sure, he’s upset about the stain on the carpet, but he’ll get over it.”

  “It’s not the stain on the carpet that’s getting to him. It’s you. Employees don’t defy Harvey Gray without consequences.”

  Brendan stiffened, as if she were the enemy, not Harvey Gray. “The man is on my church board. That doesn’t make me his employee.”

  “I suppose you think you’re employed by God.” How could he be so oblivious to the danger a man like Gray represented?

  “In a way.” Brendan was looking at her as if she were a stranger.

  Maybe she was.

  “Well, I am employed by Gray. And believe me, if he’s taking you down, I don’t intend to go with you.”

  Chapter Six

  Brendan jabbed the punching bag repeatedly, finding the rhythm and the effort soothing. He’d hung the bag in the corner of the gym during his first month here. He hadn’t used it much at first, but he’d been finding reason to more and more often in recent months.

  It was ironic, in a way, that the person who spent so much time breaking up fights between the kids had to take out his own frustrations on the bag. The teens probably saw him as some do-gooder who never got angry. If they knew the truth about who he was inside—

  Well, hitting the bag was better than any alternative he could come up with. Uncle Joe had put the gloves on him when he was fourteen or so, rightly feeling that a kid who’d seen the worst use of fists ought to learn a better way.

  Sweat soaked into his T-shirt, but he didn’t stop. He had a lot to work out today. His frustrations with the kids, who hadn’t responded in the way he’d hoped to what Claire tried to teach them, had been compounded by that unpleasant encounter with Harvey Gray.

  And then there’d been Claire’s reaction. He frowned, letting his rhythm slow. She’d been angry with him, acting as if he were som
e totally naive idiot who didn’t know a thing about the world.

  Could Claire really believe that one of his parishioners would embark on a campaign against him because of a simple disagreement? That was ridiculous.

  “Are you angry with someone, by any chance?”

  He must be having some sort of auditory hallucination. That couldn’t possibly be Claire’s voice.

  He stopped the bag and turned. She stood in the gym doorway, looking too pristine in her pale beige pantsuit to venture inside the room. Her bronze hair curved around her face like the petals of a chrysanthemum, and her creamy skin begged to be touched.

  Well, he’d better stop that line of thought right now.

  “No.” He shrugged. “Well, hitting the bag is a way of taking out my frustrations, but I didn’t have anyone in particular in mind.”

  “Then you’re missing a great opportunity.” She came toward him then, skirting the hand weights that lay on the dusty floor. The custodian must have been skipping this part of the church in his cleaning routine.

  He pulled off the gloves. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.” Or ever, for that matter.

  “No, I guess not.” Her gaze evaded his.

  He grabbed a towel, trying to clean up the best he could. What he needed was a shower, but he could hardly ask Claire to wait around while he made himself presentable.

  He mopped his face. “So, are you going to tell me what brought you, or do I have to guess?”

  She shot him an annoyed look. “All right. I came to apologize.”

  He blinked. “For what?”

  “I shouldn’t have interfered in your relationship with Harvey Gray. It’s not any of my business.”

  He hadn’t expected that, given how strongly she’d seemed to feel the night before. Had she changed her mind? Or just decided it was safer to stay out of the situation?

  “Harvey’s your boss.” He trod carefully, wondering what she was thinking. “You probably know him a lot better than I do. You don’t have to apologize for trying to give me what you feel is good advice.”

  “Advice you don’t intend to take.”

  “Claire—” He hesitated, not sure what to say. “Look, I just think you overreacted a little. My relationship with a parishioner is a lot more complex than your relationship with your boss.”

  He could read the skepticism in her eyes. She didn’t believe that.

  “Maybe you’re right,” she said carefully. “I don’t think so, but as I said, it’s not my business.”

  “And you want to stay out of it, right?”

  Her gaze cooled. “I think it would be best if my work didn’t get tangled up with my personal life.”

  “Fair enough.” He could respect that. “I hope what happened last night didn’t cause any unpleasantness for you at the office.”

  For the first time since she’d come in, a faint smile touched her lips. “Oddly enough, there was a small crisis at the office this morning. Mr. Gray found that distracting enough to keep his mind off whatever I might be doing in my spare time.”

  He didn’t know quite how to react to that. “Are you saying you manufactured something just to keep his mind off last night?” If so, Claire was a lot more devious than he’d imagined.

  “Not manufactured, no.” She looked a little offended at that. “Believe me, I never have to manufacture crises. There’s always something. It’s just that usually I solve them without involving Mr. Gray.”

  “But today you let him deal with it.”

  “This morning I let him know it existed,” she corrected. “This afternoon I’ll take care of it. He’ll be grateful, and the subject of my involvement with your juvenile delinquents won’t come up.”

  “Devious.”

  “You don’t approve.” She was nearly as quick to take offense as Rick.

  “I’m not criticizing. I just don’t agree with manipulating people.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you’re not in the business world, Pastor.”

  “Maybe so.”

  Father, she’s angry at my words, but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it will make her think twice about how she relates to people.

  Claire’s lips tightened. “Just take care of your parishioner, then, and let me deal with my boss in my own way. And if you’re talking with him about those kids, please leave my involvement out of the conversation. Hopefully he’ll think my presence last night was strictly a one-shot deal.”

  “Does that mean you’re backing out on helping Stacy?” He frowned.

  She gave an exasperated sigh. “Of course not. I just mean that Harvey Gray doesn’t have to know I’m doing it.”

  “I certainly won’t go out of my way to tell him, but I can’t lie about it.” Didn’t she see that would be wrong, to say nothing of the damage it would do to his relationship with a member of the congregation?

  She seemed to be gritting her teeth. “Can you avoid the subject entirely, then?”

  “Fine. I’ll do my best.”

  He certainly didn’t have any burning desire to talk with Harvey about his work with the teens. The previous night’s events had just made it clearer that he should keep his ministry to the kids separate from his congregation.

  “That’ll have to do.” She snapped the words and turned toward the door.

  “Claire.”

  She stopped. “What?”

  “Thank you for coming by to apologize. I appreciate it.”

  She looked as if she were struggling to keep from biting his head off. “Fine,” she said, grinding the word out. “I’ve got to go.”

  He found himself grinning as the door slammed behind her. Claire might insist that she didn’t care a thing about him and his work. She could declare that she didn’t have an idealistic bone in her body and that she was only working with Stacy because of that silly bargain with him.

  But he knew better. The very fact that she’d come today told him that God was starting to work on Claire, whether she realized it or not.

  “I didn’t realize Brendan would be here tonight.”

  Claire hesitated in the doorway, wishing back the words as soon as she spoke them. There was certainly no reason to betray to Siobhan Flanagan, of all people, that she had any interest in Brendan.

  Which she didn’t, she hastened to assure herself. She was surprised, that’s all. He hadn’t mentioned he was coming to the Flanagan house for the shower-planning meeting.

  Siobhan took her arm, leading her into the shabby living room with a smile. “Brendan shows up to have supper with us whenever he can. We like having the family together around the table.”

  It was shabby, she thought again, glancing around the living room. The furniture had seen better days, and the coffee table bore the scars only a large family or a college fraternity would inflict. She compared it mentally with her own elegant, virtually untouched living room.

  Untouched. She felt the smallest bit of uneasiness.

  The Flanagan living room had seen actual living. Every surface was crowded with family photos and memorabilia. The whole history of a family was encapsulated in this space. They probably felt that was worth a few nicks and scars.

  “Supper will be ready in a few minutes.” Siobhan gestured toward a chair. “Relax. And don’t worry— we’ll get rid of some of the males before we start the shower planning.”

  Ryan, the youngest of the Flanagan brothers, looked up from the carpet where he was playing with Seth’s little boy. He grinned. “You won’t have to ask me twice, Mom. I don’t know a thing about showers, and I don’t plan to learn.”

  Brendan leaned forward in his easy chair to tap him lightly with the newspaper he held. “Maybe you ought to learn, Ry. Some woman will trip you up one of these days.”

  “Not me.” Ryan shook his head, a lock of Irish black hair falling on his forehead. “I’m having too much fun to hit the matrimonial trail.”

  Nolie had told her that Ryan had a good heart behind all that charming exterior. She’d have
to take her word for it. Funny, that the Flanagan men looked so alike but were so different in personality.

  Brendan sent a smile her way. “Don’t worry. I don’t have any opinions on showers.”

  “Then that must be the only topic you don’t have an opinion on.”

  He held up both hands in surrender, the lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “Truce, please.”

  That smile had a way of getting under her skin, and the realization made her guard go up. At least Brendan was fully dressed now, in a pair of khakis and a deep blue Polo shirt. When she’d found him working out in shorts and a T-shirt, she’d let herself dwell a lot more than she should have on the breadth of his shoulders and the long lines of his body.

  Off-limits, she reminded herself. She didn’t intend to get involved with anyone, and if she did, it certainly wouldn’t be with a stubborn, opinionated minister.

  “Isn’t Stacy here?” She glanced toward the kitchen. The girl might be helping Siobhan. “I wanted to hear how her job interview went.”

  Brendan got up and came toward her. “Now, don’t overreact.”

  Tension rippled along her nerves. “What happened? How can I overreact when I don’t know what’s going on? Where is she?”

  “She’s upstairs.” Brendan’s fingers closed around her wrist. “I’ll take you up, but she wanted me to talk to you first. She ditched the interview.”

  Behind him, Joe and Ryan had begun a conversation, no doubt designed to show that they weren’t listening. She lowered her voice anyway.

  “Ditched. She didn’t go at all?” I set it up for her, she wanted to say, but that was hardly the point.

  “She panicked at the last minute and didn’t go in.” His grasp tightened. “Listen, don’t blow up at her.”

  That annoyed her more than Stacy’s actions. “Do I look as if I intend to blow up?”

  “You look irritated.”

  She took a deep breath. “That’s at you, not Stacy. Can I see her now?”

  He led her to the stairs. “Come on up. She’s staying in my old room, as it happens.”