A Passion Most Pure (The Daughters of Boston Book #1): A Novel

by Julie Lessman

  Though they never spoke in terms of a spiritual rebirth, Faith knew her parents embraced the same life-changing faith as she. It was evident in the strength of their marriage and the joy in their hearts, even in the midst of trials. Faith lay there in the early morning shadows, her eyes becoming misty just thinking about them. A swell of gratitude filled her soul. No one had to tell her how blessed she was to be a part of this family. She felt it to the core of her being. It was God’s greatest gift, aside from his Son, to be surrounded and nurtured by the amazing love of these two remarkable people.

  It was during moments like this that Faith had great difficulty understanding her sister. They were only a little over two years apart, born and raised in the same family, with the same loving parents and values, yet Charity was more of a stranger than a sister. A cold chill in an otherwise warm and wonderful existence. A thorn in the flesh, Faith thought as she remembered Mrs. Gerson’s comments about St. Paul. Charity was definitely that. But no more, Faith supposed, than she was to her, especially where Collin was concerned.

  Faith rolled on her back and shivered, sadness suddenly cloaking her like the weight of her blankets. A dull ache throbbed in her heart, and she wondered when she would ever be free from it, free from him. There was no question about it—it was the perfect time for Easter and the rebirth she hoped it would bring. Collin was leaving. And although the thought produced a sick feeling in her stomach, Faith had no doubt at all it was exactly what she needed. Collin would leave, Charity would pine, and Faith would move on.

  She thought of Danny, and a smile pulled at her lips. Who knows, perhaps he would be the one who would deliver her. She hoped so. From the start, Danny had such a soothing effect on her. True, he didn’t elicit the passion of her star-crossed encounters with Collin, but with time and prayer, she believed she could love him. Perhaps then she would, as one of her favorite verses from Psalm 144 declared, “sing a new song.” One whose melody would be as sweet as that of her parents’.

  A squeal floated up from downstairs, and Faith knew slumber was short-lived now that Katie was up. Thrusting her covers aside, she sat up and glanced across the room.

  “Charity, are you awake?” No answer. As quietly as she could, Faith dressed and headed for the door; she turned to look at her sister one last time before leaving their room. Charity’s covers were still, with only the gentle movement of her breathing. “Happy Easter, Charity,” Faith whispered, more to herself than to her sister. “I hope it’s a new beginning for Collin and you.” She closed the door behind her and sighed. A new beginning for us all.

  Marcy had outdone herself. The dining room was aglow with the light of her prized candlesticks, and the lace-covered table was laden with the bounty of her kitchen. Her china sparkled in the candlelight, and the silverware was polished to a gleam, cushioned by delicate folds of lace-trimmed napkins. A profusion of Easter lilies graced the center of the table, their heady fragrance drifting in the air. Marcy herself was breathless and glowing. She hurried back and forth from the kitchen to deliver steaming platters of ham and turkey while Faith and Charity fetched bowls heaped high with vegetables.

  A knock sounded at the door, and Sean jumped to answer it.

  “That must be Danny with Maisie and Briana,” Faith said, setting a basket of rolls on the table. “Right on time!”

  Sean ushered them into the dining room, and Faith reached for Danny’s hand. “Thanks so much for bringing Maisie and Briana. I really appreciate it.”

  Danny grinned. “I’d bring the pope if it meant I’d spend Easter with you,” he quipped.

  “Name-dropper,” Collin muttered to Sean. Sean laughed.

  Faith raised her voice over the commotion as she linked arms with Briana. “Everybody, this is Briana, a good friend of mine from work.”

  Briana smiled when introduced to each of Faith’s family members, then blushed just a hint of rose when she came to Collin.

  “And, of course, Briana, you know Collin.”

  Briana smiled shyly. “Of course I do. Hello, how have you been?”

  Faith couldn’t resist a peek at Collin. It was one of the few awkward smiles she’d ever seen on his face. She detected a sudden rash creeping up his neck. “Fine, Briana, and you?” He folded his arms, as if at a loss as to what to do with his hands.

  “Never better,” she said with a smile.

  He nodded, his discomfort growing more obvious with each passing second. Charity stepped up and grabbed his arm, flashing a superior smile. “I’ve heard so much about you, Briana. It’s good to finally meet you.” There was the slightest note of disdain in her voice.

  “And I, you,” Briana responded in kind, causing Charity’s smile to waver just a bit.

  Briana leaned to hug Mrs. Gerson, who was already seated at the table, while Patrick ushered everyone in. Katie insisted on sitting by Maisie while Sean quickly claimed the other seat beside her and pulled out the chair for her to sit down. Danny did the same for Faith. He whispered in her ear, and she laughed, whispering back. Looking up, she saw Collin’s lips tighten into a flat line as he seated Charity.

  The meal began, as always, with a prayer from Patrick. “Lord, in the midst of a difficult time, we come together to rejoice in the resurrection of your Son. Thank you for sending him to die for us and then to rise again, offering each of us the joy of new birth, new beginnings. Help us to live for you, oh Lord, and guide us through the months ahead with your steady and loving hand. Amen.”

  Everyone consumed until full, both of the food and the intoxicating warmth pervading the room. They laughed as Patrick told stories of Easters past—of the time Faith and Hope had hidden chocolate behind the wood-burning stove to keep it from Sean, which resulted in a sticky mess for Marcy and a stomachache for Blarney. Or the morning Sean and Faith awakened to baskets filled with nothing but grass while Charity’s fairly toppled with candy.

  “So, that’s why I wake up so early on Easter!” Faith exclaimed.

  Everyone laughed, even Charity.

  When the meal was done, Marcy rose and looked around the table. “So … who wants coffee? I also have tea, if anyone would like it.”

  “And hot chocolate?” Katie asked, her tone bordering on alarm.

  “Yes, even hot chocolate, although my maternal instincts warn that a certain little girl may have already had more than her fair share.”

  “Who?” Katie asked. Marcy shot her a cynical look.

  Mrs. Gerson rose from the table. “Marcy, would you mind terribly if I took my tea in the parlor by the fire? I’m afraid my rheumatism is not cooperating, and I think I would be more comfortable there.”

  “Of course, Christa,” Marcy responded. “Maisie, Briana, would you mind escorting Mrs. Gerson to the parlor? I can bring your tea in there, as well, and you three can visit while Faith, Charity, and I do the dishes.”

  Maisie chuckled. “Oh, please, Mrs. O’Connor, don’t deny me the dishes!” She rolled her eyes at Briana.

  “You’re just jealous ’cause I get to pick at the leftovers,” Faith said with a smirk.

  “Just one of many reasons, I’m sure,” Maisie returned, winking at Danny.

  The women left the room, and Patrick broached the subject weighing on his mind. “So, Collin, have they given you an exact date when you’ll be leaving?”

  Collin folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, a sober look on his face. “June 15.”

  Patrick nodded. “At least you’ll be here for Charity’s graduation. I’m glad.”

  Danny bent forward, one arm resting on the table. He looked at Collin in frank surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re going overseas to fight?”

  Collin glanced at him, an amused look on his face. “As a matter of fact, I am. Why does that seem strange? Haven’t you heard there’s a war on?”

  Danny shook his head. “It just doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, that’s all. You’re engaged to a beautiful woman. Why risk getting shot when you don’t have to?”

  C
ollin’s eyes narrowed as he gave Danny a cool look. “Because more than likely, we’ll all be going sooner or later.”

  Marcy reentered the room with a tray of steaming coffee cups, and Collin’s smile was stiff. He thanked her and took a sip. Patrick nodded when she left, then stared blankly at his coffee, stirring in the cream. Sean stretched back in his chair and began idly tracing his finger on his mother’s lace tablecloth.

  Collin exhaled. “As you know, there’s talk in Congress about something they’re calling the Selective Service Act, which would mandate conscription—drafting men into the army. Right now, they’re talking about registering men between the ages of twenty-one and thirty. If your lucky number is called, congratulations—you’re a doughboy. Figured I’d get my bid in early.”

  “I’m willing to go, even if they don’t call me.” Sean took a gulp of coffee, then another. “Somebody’s got to stop Germany from riding roughshod over the rest of the world.”

  Patrick glimpsed up with knitted brows. “You’re right, Sean. Much as I hate to admit it, I don’t think we can sit back on this one. I’ll be going if called.”

  Danny’s mood sobered as he stared at the untouched coffee before him. He looked up at Patrick. “I thought the draft was for the ages of twenty-one through thirty, Mr. O’Connor? Why would you be called?”

  Patrick slumped in his chair and rubbed the back of his neck. “True enough, Danny. Right now they’re going for the youngsters such as yourself, but I’ve heard rumors of extending the registration to all men between eighteen and forty-five. If that happens—which I suspect it might later this summer—well, then, I’m right there with you boys.”

  Sean turned to his father, his forehead creased with worry. “Father, if that happens, what would Mother do without your income?”

  Patrick sighed and sipped his coffee. “I don’t know, Sean. I’ve been pondering the possibilities since last year. With Marcy’s grandmother ailing, I’d originally thought perhaps Marcy and the rest of the family might go to Ireland to help her out. I thought we could put our house up for rent while they’re gone. I even have an old friend who is the editor of the Irish Times in Dublin. I know I could get Faith on at the paper there, and Charity might get a job in a shop somewhere, I don’t know. But now, with ship travel so dangerous, I’m not sure what I would do. It’s something I haven’t really figured out yet.”

  “Maybe your number won’t come up.” Danny sounded hopeful.

  Patrick finished his coffee and rose. He pushed his chair in. “You know, Danny, I have a funny feeling it will. And if it doesn’t, well, I might just go anyway. Sean’s right. Somebody’s got to do something. And I think the fight for freedom is a fight I’d rather not sit out.” He smiled. “Anybody up for a game of chess? Suddenly I feel like kicking somebody’s back end.”

  Collin laughed and stood. “Get in line, Mr. O’Connor; I’ve been feeling that way for over three weeks. But don’t worry; I’ll take your age into consideration.”

  “Fine. And I’ll consider your inexperience. You’ll need some excuse, I suppose, when you lose.” Grinning, the two headed for the parlor, Patrick’s arm draped loosely around Collin’s shoulder.

  “Mama, I don’t feel so good.” Katie groaned and slouched in the chair, her legs dangling as she hugged her stomach. Marcy turned from the sink to assess her youngest daughter, who sported telltale smudges of chocolate on her face.

  Marcy sighed. “Katie Rose, have you been in the candy again?”

  “No, Mama, just a little, bitty bite, not much at all. Ooooohhhh, but my tummy hurts …”

  Marcy handed the wet dishrag to Faith, an apology on her face. “Faith, I’m sorry, would you mind taking over while I tend to Katie?”

  “That’s fine, Mother; we’re almost done, anyway.”

  Marcy smiled and kissed her on the cheek, then turned and squeezed Charity’s shoulder. “I love my girls so much,” she said, scooping Katie up off the chair. “Come on, little chicken. Let’s see if we can get your tummy feeling better.” Marcy hurried out with Katie in her arms, leaving Faith to wash while Charity dried. Silence ensued.

  Faith chewed on her lip, then ventured a peek at Charity out of the corner of her eye. She cleared her throat. “I’m glad Collin came today, Charity, for your sake.”

  Charity shot her a sideways glance. “I’ll bet. We’d still be engaged if not for you.”

  Faith’s stomach twisted. She scrubbed the turkey pan harder. “I know. I’m really sorry. There are no words to say how much.” She rinsed the pan and handed it to her sister. “Will you forgive me?”

  Charity didn’t answer as she dried it and put it away. When finished, she turned, her eyes as hard as amethyst. “I don’t think so.”

  Faith stopped washing, her brows knitted in hurt surprise. “Why?”

  “Because you ruined my life. You’ve always ruined my life—first with Father, now with Collin. I don’t think you deserve to be forgiven. I’d rather see your righteous little conscience drown in a sea of guilt over what you’ve done.”

  Faith’s lips parted in momentary shock, then clamped shut. She hurled the wet dishrag into the dirty water. “Ruined your life with Father? And how have I done that? You’re the one who defies him at every turn! And as far as Collin goes, I haven’t done anything, at least nothing that deserves how you’ve treated me the last few weeks. Collin kissed me! I tried to stop him, and he wouldn’t. Do you really think I would try to steal my sister’s fiancé?”

  Charity crossed her arms and rolled back on her heels, studying her sister through slitted eyes. “You bet I do. You’ve been lovesick for Collin McGuire as long as I can remember. It just eats you alive he belongs to me.”

  “Well, he’s all yours—take him! I’ll be glad when he’s gone so I can be rid of him.” Faith trembled as heat stung her cheeks.

  Charity grinned. “Good—I will!” She cocked her head, her brows slanted in contempt. “Tell me, Faith, you think you can manage to keep your hands off him while he’s still here?”

  Faith took a step forward. Her hands balled into fists. “How many times do I have to tell you? He … kissed … me!”

  Charity’s lip curled in scorn. “He’s a man, Faith. You haven’t had a whole lot of experience, I know, but I have. Let me tell you something I’ve learned—it’s the woman who controls what goes on. You could have gotten up and walked away anytime, but you didn’t. A while back, you told me about Collin and your friend Briana. You said Collin used her to get what he wanted. You were right. That’s what men do when they don’t care about a woman—they use them. Just like Collin used you that night. It was dark, he was drunk, and you, big sister, were nothing more than a convenient means of satisfying a need …”

  Faith’s face chilled as the blood leeched out. She lunged, her fingers aimed at the smirk on Charity’s face. A creak sounded at the door. They both reeled to see Collin inside the room, his eyes burning in a face that was deadly calm. Charity caught her breath while Faith stood paralyzed.

  “Charity—apologize to your sister.” His tone was dangerously quiet. His eyes locked on Charity with an intensity that made her blush.

  Faith stared him down, her hands on her hips. “Stay out of this, Collin.”

  His face was a mask as he stared back. “I’m just trying to defend you—”

  “I don’t need you to defend me!” she raged, fists clenched at her side. “And tell me, Collin, who’s going to defend me from you?”

  He blinked and went pale.

  “Do me a favor. Don’t come to me next time you need to ‘satisfy your needs’ or feel the need to ‘do what comes naturally.’”

  Collin looked as if she’d slapped him. He swallowed hard.

  “Just stay away from me!” she hissed.

  “Faith, it wasn’t like that. It was a mistake—”

  “Just like the mistake I made thinking God could ever mean anything to the likes of you. You were probably laughing inside the whole time you …” She hesita
ted for just a moment as a chill shivered through her, then continued on, her voice a hoarse whisper. “Poor, deluded Faith. I’ll go along just to soften things up. I’ll just do what comes naturally—”

  “No! It wasn’t like that. I was listening to you. What you said, it meant something to me.” He took a step forward, and Charity moved between them, her eyes filled with steely fire.

  “No, it didn’t, Collin. You as much as said so when you called her a fanatic. You told me you only stayed because you were drunk, that all she did was talk about God. You said, ‘You know what a fanatic Faith can be.’”

  Faith’s lungs closed in, trapping all air. Wet pain stung her eyes as she stared in shock. Collin’s stricken face confirmed Charity’s words. Faith’s vision blurred as she stabbed a finger in warning. “Stay away from me, Collin. I mean it. Leave … me … alone!”

  Charity spun, eyes flashing as she grabbed Collin’s arm. “You leave him alone! He doesn’t want you; he wants me.”

  Collin seemed bolted to the floor. A dangerous shade of red mottled his cheeks, and a muscle jerked in his jaw. He flung Charity’s hand from his arm. When he spoke, his words were filled with venom, spewed forth in a deadly whisper. “To the devil with you both,” he sneered. He bludgeoned his way through the door, leaving them singed by the heat of his anger.

  14

  It had to be a record. Charity had been crying for almost a week now, and Faith bordered on a depression ranging between listless and catatonic. Patrick was teetering on the brink of his sanity, and he and Marcy were at their wits’ end. Both agreed—something had to be done.

  It was anybody’s guess what could have happened. One minute Collin was laughing and moving his pawn across the chessboard, the next minute he was charging through the parlor like a raging bull.

  “Where are you going? It’s your move,” Patrick had said, amazed at the speed at which Collin thundered to the door.

  Collin grabbed his coat and fisted it in the air. “I’m sorry, Mr. O’Connor, but I need to go home before I do something I regret.”