A Hope Undaunted

by Julie Lessman

  “Marcy, I’m the editor of the Herald, for pity’s sake, I have to read the paper – ”

  “Which triggered your angina when you saw the extent of the market crash, did it not?”

  He seemed to sink into the bed at the pain of her words. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, the realization obviously sapping his will.

  “Swear, Patrick – now – no radio or newspaper until Dr. Williamson releases you.”

  Katie stared at her father – so handsome and so strong – and yet now so much older than he’d ever seemed before. All at once she saw the glint of silver in his hair, the slight sag of his jaw, and dark shadows that circled beneath defeated eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

  “I swear, Marcy, before God and you – I will do everything the doctor says.”

  She removed the Bible and stood, clutching it in her arms. “I trust you, Patrick, something you’ve not made easy for me these last few weeks. But I know you will not lie to God, so I take my peace from that.” She set the Bible on the coffee table and tugged at the blanket folded at the bottom of his bed, tucking it in and pulling it up to his chin. “Do you need a drink or have to use the bathroom before Katie and I head up?”

  He didn’t answer, but simply jerked the cover loose and pushed it away before closing his eyes and resting clasped hands on his chest.

  Marcy leaned to press a kiss to his lips, and her heart clutched at his lack of response. “Good night, Patrick. I love you.”

  “Good night, Father, I love you too,” Katie whispered, brushing a kiss to his cheek.

  “Good night, Katie Rose,” he said quietly before turning on his side and shutting them both out.

  Tears stung her eyes as Marcy doused the lights and mounted the stairs with her daughter.

  “I guess Gabe’s in bed?” Katie asked, her voice sounding as drained as Marcy felt.

  “Yes, the poor thing was so guilt-ridden over sneaking the newspaper to your father that she disappeared rather quickly, sound asleep before I could even kiss her good night.” Marcy gave her a sideways glance. “Did you get to talk to Luke like you’d hoped?”

  Katie nodded.

  The puffy eyes and mottled cheeks suddenly caught Marcy’s eye. She put a hand to Katie’s arm. “Is everything okay?”

  Katie shook her head, dislodging several tears from her lashes.

  Marcy halted her on the steps. “Tell me what happened.”

  Katie whisked away the tears as she squared her shoulders, attempting a smile. “Nothing that can’t wait till morning, Mother. We both have enough on our minds right now with Father. But I’ll fill you in tomorrow, I promise.”

  Marcy touched a palm to Katie’s cheek, too fatigued to argue. “It will all work out, Katie, trust me. God has never failed us yet.”

  Katie nodded and gave her a hug. “I know. I’ve always depended on your and Father’s faith, but I suppose it’s time I learn for myself. Good night, Mother. Try to sleep, okay?”

  With a depleted sigh, Marcy watched as Katie headed to her room, then forced herself into the bathroom where she went through the motions of brushing her teeth and washing her face. She put her silk nightgown on, the one she’d taken to wearing since the awful change, and then welcomed the cool of the sheets as she slipped into her lonely bed. Laying her head on the pillow, she was suddenly overcome by Patrick’s scent, strong in the room. She closed her eyes, and tears dampened her cheeks as musk and pipe tobacco taunted her senses.

  So much more than her body temperature had changed of late. Chaos reigned – not only in the tumult of her emotions, but in the well-being of her family and the stability of the world as they knew it. Bent on keeping Patrick from the stress of the dire economy, Marcy had taken to hiding the Herald from her husband daily, only reading it herself, with trepidation, in the confines of their bedroom. But the news tightened her stomach and rattled her faith. She knew little about the stock market or Patrick’s dalliance with it, but on October 29, while her husband lay weak in the hospital, her knowledge expanded considerably, along with her fear.

  More than 16 million shares had been traded that day, culminating in a paralyzing drop in the market in less than two months, and overnight, a frightening pall had settled over the country. Prominent companies and financial institutions collapsed, their company stock worthless and their futures bleak. The financial world was in crisis, and from the knots in Marcy’s stomach, she knew that her family was too.

  Dear God, what does the future hold? Worry leaked from her eyes, staining her pillow and weighting her heart. Like many others, her husband had invested – and lost – a fortune and was now out of work, at least for the next two and a half months. Their savings had been bled dry, and their future hung in the balance. Fear skittered her spine like the deadliest of parasites, threatening to suck the life from her soul. She tucked legs to her chest while dread stifled her air.

  Though I walk in the midst of trouble, thou wilt revive me . . .

  Marcy stilled on her pillow, the passage from her morning missal lighting upon her mind as quietly as the near-silent tick of the clock, whose steady rhythm now matched that of her heart. Thou wilt revive me . . .

  She breathed in the thought, inhaling it deeply, thoroughly, desperate for the calm of God’s Word . . . his promises.

  I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.

  Fresh tears swelled in her eyes, rushing forth from a wellspring of hope. She clutched her pillow, overcome with his peace. Oh, God, what would I do without you?

  Her mind strayed to Patrick, downstairs and alone, and her heart seized in her chest. Hurling the covers aside, she bounded from the bed and raced down the hall. Cheeks flushed with warmth, she chewed on her lip as she scurried down the steps like Gabe so often did. Her bare feet were silent as she padded to where he lay, a shadowed lump facing the wall. With a rush of love, she eased under the covers on a sliver of bed, spooning him close with arms to his waist.

  He jolted from his sleep with a grunt. “Marcy? What are you doing?”

  She pressed a gentle kiss to his neck, reveling in the scent of him, the man God had blessed her with for better or for worse. The worse may well be upon them, but they would not face it alone. No, they would have each other, two frail human beings clasped tightly to the hand of God. A threefold cord not quickly broken.

  “Patrick, forgive me, please – I just want to hold you a while.”

  He turned in the bed then, shifting to make room for her as he pulled her close. With a low moan, he buried his head in the crook of her neck, his lips tender and his words thick with emotion. “God knows how I love you, Marceline.”

  The warmth of his words brought a smile to her lips. “We will get through this, Patrick, we will – one day and one prayer at a time.”

  “I know, darlin’,” he whispered. Peace settled as they lay in each other’s arms, the sound of Patrick’s prayers warm in her ear. When he finished, they rested a long while, her body languid and lazy as it molded to his.

  Drowsy with relaxation, her eyes popped open when Patrick jerked in her arms and snorted in his sleep. A tender smile tugged at her lips as the snoring rose in volume, warming her heart with the blessed sound. “I love you, Patrick O’Connor,” she whispered in the dark, her words drowned out by the nasal rasping from her husband’s open mouth. “And as far as your snoring, I give you my word . . .” She sidled closer and breathed in the scent of him, his body lulling her to sleep with its glorious warmth. “I will never complain again.”

  18

  Luke stared out his bedroom window, body numb and eyes glazed in a hard stare. The lamppost across the street blurred into a halo of light, foggy and out of focus – like his mind at the moment – and as dim and surreal as this nightmare that wouldn’t end.

  The scene in his office replayed, and the tragic turn of events twisted his gut once again.

  “I . . . I think I’m in love with you, Luke . . .”

  He slumped at his
desk, hand to his eyes, never believing those words could have caused him such pain. She wanted him to stay, but he had promised to go. Two women who stirred the love in his heart . . . but only one who stirred his passion.

  He closed his eyes, and thoughts of Betty were immediate, producing an ache so deep, more tears welled beneath his lids. Like him, she had lived in the gutter all of her life. Not just in the streets of New York, but in the littered ruts of destiny as well, where life denied her any chance at happiness. A father killed in the war and a destitute mother, a stepfather who thrived on abuse, and a lover who took it a step further. The result was a baby destined to be born a bastard, and a friend who had vowed it would never happen. Betty and he were blood, not in the literal sense of heritage, but in the true sense of all they had shared . . . as friends . . . as family . . . as lovers. Grief pierced anew, and the emotion shifted in his throat. Brady and the O’Connors had taught him well. Luke had little or no experience with family, but one thing he knew to the core of his being – family didn’t desert family . . . not in their time of need.

  He opened his eyes, and Katie’s image filled his thoughts, unleashing a slash of sorrow in his heart unlike any he’d experienced before. She was everything he’d ever wanted . . . and now something he could never have, and the reality of that bitter truth settled on his mind like a mantle of despair. He had hurt her, and the realization cut him to the quick. But the scales had been weighed, and justice demanded its balance – Katie had a family to get her through this . . . while Betty had none until his ring was on her hand. Katie had a fiancé to make her dreams come true . . . while Betty had a friend who might just keep her nightmares away.

  A knock sounded, and Luke jerked in the chair, knowing full well that Betty waited on the other side. He rose and rolled his shoulders to shift the kinks from his neck, then drew in a deep breath and strode to the door. He opened it with a practiced smile that was wide and relaxed, perusing Betty’s housecoat from head to toe. “Hey, you’re supposed to be in bed – we have a big day tomorrow.”

  Ignoring his smile, she slipped past him, turning only when she reached the middle of his room. When she did, the agony on her face matched that in his gut, and he took an abrupt step forward. “Bets, are you all right . . . is the baby . . .”

  She halted him with a hand in the air, eyes rimmed red and a quiver in her lip. “Fine, Luke, we’re both fine.”

  He moved forward. “Then what’s wrong – ”

  “No!” The harsh sound of her voice froze him to the spot as she waved him away. “Please, don’t come any closer . . . this is hard enough as it is.”

  Sweat beaded on the back of his neck. He slammed the door shut. “Bets, you’re scaring me – what’s wrong?”

  She put a fist to her mouth and began to shake her head while tears glimmered in her eyes. “It’s no good, Luke . . .”

  “What’s no good?” he whispered, and strain cracked in his voice.

  A single tear trailed her cheek. “You and me – married. It won’t work.”

  He ignored her protest and charged forward, steering her to sit on his bed. When she started to sob, he sat down beside her and swallowed her up in a hug. “It will work. I love you, Bets, and I’ll love your baby. We can do this, we can make a life for your child.”

  She jerked from his embrace and jumped up, then distanced herself several steps and turned to face him, arms gripped to her waist. The chin lifted and the tears slowed. “Katie . . . she left crying tonight. Why?”

  “What?” He stood to his feet, heart pounding and heat gorging his neck.

  “You heard me. Something upset Katie pretty badly at the office tonight. She was sobbing in Parker’s arms when I passed them in the hall. I want to know why.”

  He stared, heat bleeding into his cheeks. Moving forward, he raised his hand to touch her shoulder, then halted when she took a step back. With a deep swallow of air, he forced his body to relax, absently flexing his fingers. “She’s just upset, Bets . . . we’re all good friends, and she’s not happy we’re moving away.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, avoiding her gaze. “Besides, I’ve been going to see Gabe every week and tutoring Katie as well, so naturally we’ve gotten pretty close.”

  “She’s in love with you, isn’t she?”

  The heat in his cheeks swallowed him whole, burning up into the roots of his hair. His throat constricted and he looked up, unwilling to lie, yet loathe to confirm her statement.

  “I thought so,” she whispered.

  He winced at the anguish he saw in her face.

  She moved to the window like a sleepwalker, staring into oblivion like he had only moments before. “I never really saw it, I guess, because she hides her feelings so well . . . but then maybe I really didn’t want to either.” She turned, her composure intact once again as she stood, straight and tall, eyes fused to his. “This changes everything, Luke.”

  “Why?” His voice was a choked rasp as he took a step forward. “You still need a friend to get you through this, and your baby still needs a father. Katie will get over this. She has Jack – she’ll move on.”

  She stared, her eyes betraying her hurt despite the proud lift of her chin. Her voice was a fragile whisper. “Will you?”

  Her question took him by surprise and he blinked, desperate to put her off. He straightened his shoulders and folded his arms. “Katie and I are friends, Bets, nothing more.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question, Luke. Are you in love with her?”

  He sucked in a deep breath, the casual manner he’d been striving for suddenly crashing to his feet. With a heavy sigh, he mauled his face with his hand, then slacked his stance, propping his hands low on his hips. He studied her through lidded eyes, a touch of frustration in his tone. “Of course I love her, Bets . . . just like I love you, which is why I refuse to let you do this alone.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “No, Luke, not just like you love me. Oh, yes, I know you love me, and I know how much. Enough to give your life for me – which is exactly what you’re doing.”

  “You’re being ridicu – ”

  “No!” she screamed, her eyes brimming with pain. “You forget I know you, Luke, every hair on your head, every mole on your body . . . every thought in your brain.” She shook her head, her gaze tender with affection. “Don’t you know, McGee? One look at your face, and I can read you. I didn’t want to face it, but deep down I knew it was true, and you never even had to say a word. You’ve been in love with Katie O’Connor since she first walked through our door.”

  “Bets – ”

  She cut him off, her eyes glazing into a hard stare. “Of course, at first I was hurt . . . and then I found myself hurting for you because I knew she had her sights set on Jack. Then you offered to move to Philadelphia with me, and I thought – yes! This could be good for him, spare him the torment of being around someone he wants but can’t have.” She looked up then, her eyes naked with love. Her voice dropped to a feeble whisper. “Because I know what that’s like, Luke, and I love you too much to watch it happen to you.”

  He swallowed hard, unable to speak for the ache in his throat. He’d always known she loved him that way, but he hadn’t realized the pain she’d endured. Tamping down her own desires to extend friendship instead, making it easy for him, comfortable. Just like he’d done for Katie. Realization throbbed inside like an exposed nerve, and his shoulders slumped as he put a hand to his eyes.

  “So you see, McGee, as bullheaded as you are, it won’t work. I can’t let you marry me when it’s Katie you love.” A whispery sigh wavered from her lips as she attempted a sad smile. “Not when she’s in love with you too.”

  He shook his head. “You weren’t there, Bets. You don’t know that she loves me.”

  A corner of her lip edged up. “Sure I do, McGee. I badgered Parker till he spilled. And from the sound of it, the woman’s even further gone than me.” She managed to hike a brow. “What can I say? You’re a bona fide lady-killer.” She
strolled over and patted him on the cheek, her poise almost fully restored. “Come on, Luke, for once in your life, embrace the moment.”

  She started for the door, and he tugged her back, leveling both palms on her shoulders. He made a poor attempt at a confident grin. “I am embracing the moment, Bets. I’m going to marry my best friend and live happily ever after with her and our baby.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and he pulled her into his arms and buried his head in her neck. “Aw, Bets, I love you, and you love me. Maybe we’re not where a marriage should be yet, but we’ll get there, I promise. And in the meantime, your baby will have a father.” He closed his eyes tightly, shutting thoughts of Katie out at the same time. When he spoke, his whisper was gruff with emotion. “And with God’s help, Galetti, for the first time in our lives, you and I will have a real family.”

  She pushed him back and shook her head, the glimmer of tears once again glazing her eyes. “No, Luke, I can’t let you do that.”

  He cocked a brow. “Yeah? And just how are you going to stop me? I have a train ticket with a seat next to yours and a job at the Children’s Aid Society in Philly starting Monday. And if I’m the lady-killer you say I am, I’m pretty sure I can coax Aunt Ruth into letting me stay with her too . . . especially since she’s expecting her newlywed niece and her husband.

  A ghost of a smile shadowed her mouth despite the tears streaking her face. “Luke . . .”

  He pressed a palm to her lips, stilling her with a look. “No argument, Galetti – I’m still your superior till the end of the week.” He leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek, then wriggled his brows “And come Sunday, I’ll be your husband, and then you’ll never have any say.”

  She flicked his hand away with a smirk. “Now why would I marry a tyrant like you?”