Unlikely Hero

by Marta Perry

  “I’m sure you’re going to get a good summer job,” she said carefully. “But I think you ought to consider finishing high school. It’s really tough to find a good permanent job without a high school diploma.”

  “My friend Jody didn’t graduate high school. She’s a waitress, and she makes lots in tips.”

  She hoped she looked as if she were considering that. “Is Jody supporting a baby?”

  “Well, no.” Stacy frowned. “The Rev thinks I ought to get my diploma, too. He’s usually right about stuff, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, he usually is.” She kept her voice even with an effort. Had Brendan been right when he’d kissed her and then backed away?

  Well, maybe he had been right, at that. If he didn’t want a relationship with her, it was just as well to know that before they became involved any more deeply in each other’s lives.

  And he didn’t. His response had made that clear.

  Had he backed off because of what she’d revealed to him about her past? She’d never know the answer to that one.

  She didn’t want a serious relationship, either, so that was fine. She’d been carried away by the emotion of the moment, and maybe he had been, too. She’d decided a long time ago that she wouldn’t risk getting serious about anyone, and there was no good reason to change her mind just because weddings were in the air.

  She wrestled with the situation while Mona clipped her way through Stacy’s locks. Was that all it was? The fact that most of her mind was given over to Nolie’s wedding, combined with the sheer joy she witnessed every time she saw Nolie and Gabe together?

  Then there was the added fact that Brendan was too appealing for his own good. The only surprising thing was that one of his single parishioners hadn’t shanghaied him to the altar before now.

  “If I gave the baby up for adoption—” Stacy stopped and swallowed hard. Her thoughts had obviously been even more troubling than Claire’s. “If I do, how will I know that he’s going to get a really good home?”

  Stacy was asking for advice on the most serious decision she’d probably ever make in her life. For a moment Claire felt a surge of panic. Who was she to give advice on a subject like this? She’d made more mistakes for sorrier reasons than Stacy ever had.

  She had to try. She’d committed herself to helping the girl, and that meant she had to do the best she could, no matter how unqualified she felt.

  “I don’t suppose there are any guarantees,” she said carefully. “But I know that the agency your social worker recommended has a great reputation. You’d know that the baby was going to have two parents who really long for a child and can’t have one of their own. I expect that means they’ve got a lot of love to give.”

  Stacy didn’t give any sign that she agreed or disagreed. Instead, she fixed her gaze on a display of hair-spray at the end of the counter.

  “My mother never really wanted to have a baby.” Her shoulders moved under the plastic cape. “Neither did my dad, I guess.”

  It was tough to keep her voice even when her heart was breaking for the girl. “You can give your baby two parents who really want him.”

  Two big tears welled up in Stacy’s eyes, but she blinked them back. “Maybe,” she said softly.

  She’d have to be content with that. She couldn’t push Stacy into a decision she wasn’t ready to make.

  Mona ruffled Stacy’s hair with a gentle hand, then started the hairdryer. The noise cut off any further conversation. Maybe that was just as well. She and Stacy had given each other enough to think about for the moment.

  For just an instant, a flare of resentment at Brendan flickered through her heart. If he hadn’t gotten her involved in this situation with Stacy, she wouldn’t have anything more serious to worry about right now than the menu for the wedding reception.

  Then who would be helping Stacy? Probably Brendan would say that her involvement with the girl was meant to be. That somehow God had planned all that.

  She didn’t buy that idea. Of course she didn’t.

  Still, she was involved, and she’d do her best by the girl. She’d help her get a decent summer job and try to build up her confidence so that Stacy wouldn’t dream of letting anyone hurt her again.

  And while she was making all these fine resolutions, she’d better make it clear to Brendan that all she wanted or expected from him was friendship.

  Now if she could just convince herself of that fact, she’d be able to concentrate on the wedding without any stray daydreams making her think she wanted something that was clearly out of the question.

  Brendan followed Gabe and Nolie up the walk of Claire’s town house that evening, slowing down as he approached the steps. He couldn’t be there without remembering how he’d felt waiting for Claire to return from that insane encounter with Ted.

  “Are you sure it was all right with Claire for me to come this evening?” He’d think she’d be just as happy if she never had to look at him again.

  Nolie glanced over her shoulder at him. “Of course. This is the only evening we have free this week, so we may as well make as many decisions as we can about both the wedding and the reception. Claire understands that.”

  Would Claire have told Nolie about what had happened between them? They seemed to share just about everything, so she probably had.

  If so, Nolie didn’t seem to be holding it against him. Her smile, when she and Gabe had met him at the Flanagan house, had been as warm as ever.

  Maybe Nolie was imagining a happy ending for her best friend and Gabe’s cousin. He hoped not, because she’d be in for a disappointment.

  No happy endings for you, he reminded himself. At least not romantic ones. He’d better keep that in mind, because otherwise someone could get hurt.

  He was still telling himself that when Claire opened the door, and he discovered that he became short of breath just looking at her.

  In the general hubbub of greetings he was able to get himself under strict control, so that by the time Claire finished hugging Nolie and Gabe, he had a smile and a handshake ready.

  If she thought the handshake odd, she didn’t betray that. Her smile seemed a little fixed, but her voice sounded perfectly normal.

  “Please, come in. I understand we’re going to whip through dozens of decisions tonight.”

  “So they tell me.” He hoped he sounded as cool and collected as she did. He would not glance toward the spot where they’d been when he kissed her.

  “Mom would have been happy to have you come over for supper tonight, you know.” Gabe made a hand sign to Max, and the yellow Labrador flopped down on the rug next to the sofa.

  “She’s doing too much already.” Claire lifted the coffeepot from the service she had ready on the table. “I thought we could probably get through this without any additional calories, so I just fixed coffee.”

  “Coffee’s fine. Maybe it’ll keep us awake.” Nolie sat down next to Gabe. “You wouldn’t believe the paperwork that’s been keeping us up at nights.”

  Brendan took the leather easy chair that sat at a right angle to the sofa. That would put Claire opposite him, but that was better than sitting next to her. Look what had happened the last time he’d done that.

  “That’s how it is when you get involved with a foundation that hands out money,” he said.

  “You just wish they’d send some your way for your teenagers,” Gabe retorted.

  “It wouldn’t hurt. The shoestring I’m operating on has gotten pretty frayed.”

  “If Stacy’s an example of the good work you’re doing, it’s well worth it.” Nolie’s smile included him and Claire both. “She gave us a fashion show of her new job-interview clothes and her haircut. She looks fantastic. You wouldn’t know she was the same girl.”

  “That’s all Claire’s doing,” he said quickly, holding up his hands to push away any part of it. “I can’t claim any credit for that.”

  “It was your idea,” Claire said. He couldn’t be sure whether that was a
n edge to her voice or not. She surely wasn’t still annoyed with him for getting her involved with Stacy, was she? “All I did was add the professional expertise. I know how to help her get a job.”

  His gaze met Claire’s across the coffee table, and he suddenly felt as if they were alone in the room again. “She has you worried about everything other than the job, doesn’t she?”

  A spasm of pain crossed her face. “She was talking today about the decision to give up the baby.”

  She was hurting, and he didn’t have the right to comfort her. He’d given that up.

  “Poor girl.” Nolie’s voice was soft. “She must really be struggling with that.”

  And every moment she struggled just reminded Claire of her own loss. The guilt he felt for involving her in the situation was a weight on his soul.

  “Well, that’s not why we’re here.” Claire seemed to shake off the pain, but probably everyone in the room knew she couldn’t. “We’ve got a wedding and reception to plan, remember?”

  In the face of Claire’s determination, they couldn’t do anything but go along with the pretense that she was all right and that Stacy’s pain hadn’t multiplied her own.

  But she wasn’t all right, and he knew it. They seemed to be speaking to each other without the need for words or touch, as if heart spoke to heart, soul to soul.

  He would not let this be love. Because that way lay disaster for both of them.

  Two hours later they’d hammered out every decision that had yet to be made about the wedding, and Brendan could only wonder if everyone else felt as exhausted as he did. He’d never have imagined there were so many decisions to make. He’d always just come in at the part labeled “Officiant,” and the rest of the work had been done by someone else.

  Gabe leaned back against the sofa, obviously relieved that he’d finally convinced Claire to allow the Flanagan family to bear their share of the reception cost. Nolie, nestled next to him, glowed with pleasure that her two families were united in the celebration of their wedding.

  Claire had the look that she probably wore when she’d closed a big business deal. It had been a tough negotiation, and she’d had to give a bit, but for the most part she’d gotten what she wanted.

  Was he the only one sitting here feeling as if there were a hole in his heart? Apparently so.

  Claire picked up the coffee tray, obviously headed for the kitchen. It wasn’t safe to be alone with her, but he didn’t have a choice. He had to follow her. Somehow he had to let her know….

  What? He couldn’t tell her the confusion of feelings that battered him when he was in her presence. He couldn’t let her guess that he felt anything more than friendship. So what did he have to say?

  Still, he took the coffeepot and followed her into the kitchen.

  “Here’s the pot,” he said unnecessarily, setting it on the counter. He hadn’t been in her kitchen before. He couldn’t help but stare. The room was small, very neat, and perfectly white. Even the floor was white.

  “Are you disapproving of my kitchen?” She seemed able to read his mind.

  “Not at all. I just can’t imagine keeping a kitchen looking this pristine. Mine usually looks as if the Civil War had been fought in there, especially when I’ve been cooking spaghetti.”

  “Maybe that’s why you eat so many meals at your aunt and uncle’s house.”

  “Well, I do that mostly for the company. I hate to eat alone.” He didn’t seem to be getting very far with saying anything that would help the situation between them.

  Probably the most sensible thing to do was avoid Claire entirely until this crazy feeling went away. Unfortunately, the possibility of avoiding her while they were in the midst of putting on the wedding was small, to say nothing of their other involvement.

  She began stacking cups in the sink, her back to him. He discovered he was studying the long, slim curve of her back and the way her hair curved toward her cheek in a bronze wave. She lifted her hand to brush her hair back behind her ear, and the desire to brush his lips against her cheek nearly swamped all his good intentions.

  She rinsed the coffeepot. “I usually just grab a salad on my way home from work.”

  It took a moment to remember what they’d been talking about, so that he could make sense of her comment.

  “I’d think you’d need more than a salad after a full day of work.”

  She shrugged, turning to face him. “I’m usually too tired to bother. Anyway, what did you think of Stacy’s new look? You haven’t said.”

  Because I was afraid of bringing up a subject that might hurt you.

  “She looks wonderful, thanks to you. More importantly, she knows she looks good.”

  “That is important.” Her quick glance approved of his insight. She leaned back against the white counter, hands braced against its edge. “If she feels good about herself, more confident, she’ll be less likely to let someone treat her badly.”

  It was hard to imagine Claire looking any way but polished, elegant and professional. Had she fought her way to that look, too?

  He couldn’t let himself keep thinking this way. He couldn’t go on imagining what her life had been, what she was thinking, what she was feeling.

  Once this wedding was over, they weren’t going to be anything more to each other than casual acquaintances, connected by mutual friends. He might see her occasionally at Gabe and Nolie’s, but that would be all.

  “I’m grateful for everything you’re doing for her.” That sounded ridiculously formal, but he didn’t know what else to say.

  She nodded. “It’s going to be all right, I think. She’s moving toward a decision to let the baby be adopted. It’s hard, but I think she’ll do the right thing.”

  “I’ve been praying about it. Praying for you, too, every time you meet with her.”

  Claire probably didn’t want to hear that, but he had to say it. Even casual acquaintances could pray for each other, couldn’t they?

  “Thank you.” Her words sounded just as formal as his had been.

  They seemed to have covered everything. Stacy was doing better, and Claire sounded increasingly confident about helping her. Most of the wedding decisions had been made, and in a few weeks that would be over.

  They were moving on. He still felt as if there was a hole in his heart, but maybe he’d get used to that, in time. Seeing less of Claire would undoubtedly help.

  “Gabe and Nolie are probably about ready to go.” He turned toward the door, only to be stopped by the touch of her hand on his arm.

  He swung back to her. Her hand dropped away instantly, as if she’d touched something hot.

  “One more thing.” She hesitated as if, whatever it was, she found it difficult to say.

  He tried to look receptive, tried not to pray that she wouldn’t mention that kiss.

  “I don’t want what happened the last time you were here to stand between us.” Claire’s chin firmed, as if she’d decided what she was going to say and was determined to say it, no matter how difficult.

  That was Claire, wasn’t it? He already knew that about her. She wouldn’t take the easy way out.

  “It won’t.” He could be just as courageous about this as she was, even though he knew he was lying through his teeth. The damage had already been done. “You don’t need to worry about that. It won’t affect how we work together.”

  “Good.” Her smile flickered. “This wedding has to go off without a hitch, or Nolie will never let me forget that I pushed her into it.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I promise, at the end of the day they’ll be married. That’s the important thing.”

  And when it happened, his relationship with Claire would be at an end.

  “It’s not just that, as important as that is.” Claire looked up at him, her gaze serious. “I’d never expected to have a minister for a friend, but it seems to have happened. I’d hate to lose that just because we were both overwrought about what happened.”

  Friends.
<
br />   What I want from you isn’t friendship, Claire. Or at least, that’s not all. But it’s what I’ll have to settle for, because anything closer is out of the question.

  He managed a smile. “You don’t need to worry. I’m happy to be considered your friend.”

  And I’ll never ask for anything else.

  Chapter Ten

  “See?” Nolie smiled at Claire across the dining room table at the Flanagan house. “I told you this would be more fun with everyone helping.”

  Claire managed to return the smile as she moved a pair of scissors out of reach of an inquisitive four-year-old. They’d been making favors out of squares of netting, and Mary Kate’s two youngsters were determined to help.

  “I just didn’t want to impose.” I wanted to do it myself. Well, she couldn’t say that, could she?

  Siobhan smacked Brendan’s hand lightly as he reached over her shoulder in an attempt to steal a handful of candy-coated almonds. “Some of us are being more helpful than others,” she commented.

  “Hey, I’m working.” He sounded playfully wounded, almost lighthearted, as if when he walked through the front door of the Flanagan house, the burden of his pastoral duties fell away and he could be a kid again. “I hung the crepe paper, didn’t I?”

  “You?” Ryan leaned on the back of his sister’s chair, his blue eyes mocking. “You wouldn’t know a day’s work if it stared you in the face.”

  Brendan tossed a piece of confetti at his cousin. “A lot you know about it, sitting around the firehouse eating chili. Claire, tell my aunt I deserve a handful of candy for helping.”

  Appealed to, she had to try and join in, but she wasn’t used to the casual kidding the Flanagans inflicted on each other as naturally as breathing.

  “I did see him put up one decoration,” she said. “I’m not sure how much candy that merits.”

  “None,” Siobhan said, but then gave him a handful, laughing. “You boys never grow up, do you? You’re still eating us out of house and home.”