Unlikely Hero

by Marta Perry

  “Why would we tell you?” Claire jerked her hand away from his. “So you can hit her again? Knock her around so badly she loses the baby?”

  The pain in her voice cut into Brendan’s heart. She knew what she was talking about.

  “No! You crazy?” Ted shook his head. “I wouldn’t do anything like that. I just want to see her. Make things right.”

  “The only way you can make things right is to leave Stacy alone.” He reached toward the boy. “Come on, Ted. Let’s sit down and talk about this.”

  “Leave me alone. I have to see her.”

  “Come on—”

  Ted swung, knocking his hand away. The anger surged, dark and deadly. He saw his father’s fist coming at him—

  No. That was a long time ago. His hands curled into fists, and his breath was harsh in his throat. He took a deep breath. He wouldn’t let the anger control him.

  “That decision’s not yours to make, Ted.” No one would know the effort it cost to speak naturally. “You hurt Stacy, and she doesn’t want to have anything more to do with you. It’s time to accept that.”

  Ted’s head swung slowly back and forth. If only he could connect with the boy, make him understand. Please—

  Ted turned and bolted from the church, the outer door slamming shut behind him.

  Despair settled deep into Brendan’s soul. He should have been able to help the boy. He’d failed, and Ted was left with no one who cared enough to steer him in the right path.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t realize he’d said the words aloud until Claire swung her head to look at him. Her eyes were so dark with anger that the emotion might almost have been hatred.

  “Sorry for what? That you didn’t hold the abuser’s hand a little longer?” Her fury was so hot it nearly burned him.

  “Claire, don’t. I wasn’t trying to coddle Ted. I just wanted to help him see the right thing to do.”

  “By telling him Stacy’s pregnant? Sure, that’ll solve matters for them.”

  “He would find out anyway. Stacy isn’t planning to leave town. Sooner or later he’d know.”

  “You’d rather he heard it from you.”

  Maybe she’d never be able to understand how he saw this. She identified too completely with Stacy. He knew why, and he didn’t blame her, but—

  “The only way I can get anywhere with these kids is by being completely honest. If I start lying, I become just like everyone else who’s let them down.”

  She made a short, sharp gesture, as if rejecting his words. She took a breath, obviously trying to calm herself enough to speak rationally.

  “All right. I don’t agree, but the damage is done now. He knows. Now what do we do?”

  “He may come back and talk to me once he’s cooled down. After all, I’m his link with Stacy. Maybe I can make him see that he has to let her go.”

  Claire gave him a look that suggested he was too naive to be allowed out without a keeper. “I wouldn’t want to be on the chance that will happen. And he’s bound to think of the Flanagans sooner or later. He’ll go after her.”

  Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about her thinking of him as a hero any longer.

  “No one at the house will let him in to see her if she doesn’t want to.”

  “She has a job. She goes out in public. We can’t hide her.”

  “We shouldn’t if we could.” Didn’t she see the obvious answer? “Claire, sooner or later Stacy is going to have to sit down in a room with Ted and settle this situation.”

  “No!” Her face twisted, the emotions so near the surface that she obviously couldn’t help it. “You can’t make her do that.”

  His heart hurt with the pain this was causing her. Father, help her. She’s hurting so much.

  “You’re putting yourself in Stacy’s place.” He kept his voice soft, longing to touch her but not daring to. “But you faced your abuser, eventually. You found the strength to get out.”

  “It cost too much.” She threw the words at him.

  “That won’t happen with Stacy. She won’t face him alone. We can sit down with them—”

  “No.” She took a step away from him. “No, I won’t make her do that. And I won’t let you.”

  She swung and stormed out of the church, leaving him alone to try and find some semblance of peace amidst the wreckage.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Several days had passed, and Claire still found it easier to avoid Brendan as much as possible. Easy probably wasn’t the right word, with the wedding coming up in two days, but after what had happened with Ted, her feelings were in such a jumble that she couldn’t begin to sort them out.

  She took a step back from the pew, eyeing the bow she’d just attached to the end post. “Stacy, what do you think? A little longer ribbon trailing down?”

  The late afternoon sun streamed through stained-glass windows, touching the white ribbon with shades of gold and red. She’d picked Stacy up after work to come in and decorate the sanctuary. Since nothing else was scheduled for the space tonight or Friday, they could do some of the time-consuming details, leaving the final arrangements on Saturday morning to the florist.

  Stacy tweaked the bow and then pulled it off entirely. “Like this.” She reshaped it with deft fingers, adding long streamers that touched the floor when she reattached it.

  “Very nice.” Nicer than anything she’d done, certainly. “You really have artistic talent. Have you thought about a job that would let you use it?”

  Stacy gave her the first genuine smile she’d seen since she’d told the girl that Ted knew about her pregnancy. “I used to think I wanted to be a hairdresser, but I was thinking it might be cool to work with a florist. I like working in the store, though. They let me wait on a couple of customers today.”

  “Great.” She was relieved that Stacy finally seemed to be thinking about a future in which she took care of herself. “You have plenty of time to decide, but after-school jobs could let you try out different things.”

  Stacy twisted the ribbon in her hands. “I’ll be showing by the time school starts. Wouldn’t be much fun being there, even if I want to go.”

  It was yet another decision that Stacy needed help with, and she certainly didn’t have any easy answers. Her head was already whirling with everything they had to do before the wedding.

  “Tell you what.” She clasped the girl’s hand firmly in hers. “Let’s put that on the back burner until we get this wedding over with. Then maybe we can look into some of those programs the counselor told you about for finishing high school. Okay?”

  Stacy evaded her gaze. “I was thinking, maybe now that Ted knows, things might be different with him.”

  “How different?” Exasperation sharpened her tone. “Do you think he’s going to turn into the perfect husband and father because he knows you’re having a baby?”

  Come on, Stacy. Can’t we wait until after the wedding to deal with this?

  That was what she wanted to say, but it would hardly be fair to tell Stacy that. Naturally she was obsessed with what her future would hold.

  “You don’t know Ted at all.” Stacy flared up suddenly, startling her. “He can be really nice sometimes. Sweet and caring.”

  Claire dropped the ribbon she was holding onto a padded pew and caught both Stacy’s hands in hers, forcing Stacy to look at her. “Do you really believe what you’re saying? Do you? Was he sweet and caring when he was hitting you?”

  Stacy flushed, trying to evade her gaze. “It wasn’t all his fault. Sometimes I’d do something stupid, like burn the hamburgers, and he’d get mad because we didn’t have much money and everything costs so much. You couldn’t blame him for getting mad.”

  “I can blame him for hitting you.”

  Stacy was finally opening up to her, but why did it have to be now? Her head ached with all the things that had to be done.

  “He didn’t mean to. He’d just lose his temper, that’s all.”

  Somethi
ng seemed to snap in her at that. “Right. He’d lose his temper and hit you. Stacy, there’s never an excuse for hitting someone. He’s a bully. He hit you because you wouldn’t hit back.”

  “If we were married—”

  She could hardly bear to hear the words. “You think that would make it better? If you were married, he’d be stuck with supporting a wife and child when he can barely support himself. You know that. Would he want to walk the floor all night with a crying baby? Or would he hit again?”

  “He’d never hit a baby.”

  “People do.” Her heart seemed to be breaking. “What if he hits you while you’re pregnant? You could lose the baby.”

  I did. But she wouldn’t say that.

  The door between the sanctuary and the rest of the building creaked open. Brendan was standing there. He’d heard. Their eyes met.

  Brendan thought she should tell Stacy about her past, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t.

  “Look, Stacy.” She tried for a calm she didn’t feel. “Ted’s not ready for marriage and neither are you. You’re only sixteen.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.” Stacy wrenched her hands free, glaring at her.

  “I know you do, but—”

  “You don’t know anything about what it’s like to be me.” Tears filled Stacy’s eyes. “You look down on me because you think I was stupid to get involved with Ted and even stupider to get pregnant.”

  “Stacy, of course I don’t look down on you.” Her heart ached. “I care about you. I understand.”

  “You can’t.” Stacy shook her head vehemently. “How could you? You’ve got this perfect house and perfect clothes and perfect life. How could you understand what it’s like to be where I am?”

  Over the girl’s head, Claire’s gaze locked with Brendan’s. Messages passed between them without the need for words.

  You have to tell her.

  I can’t.

  She closed her eyes for a second, blocking them both out. She didn’t want to see anyone right now. Not Stacy, who reminded her too clearly of the person she’d once been. Not Brendan, whom she couldn’t stop loving even though she knew she had to.

  “Stacy—” Brendan’s voice broke through her pain.

  “No.” Claire shook her head at him. “No. You’re right. I have to do this.”

  She looked at Stacy, letting everything she felt show in her eyes. “I do know what it’s like to be you, Stacy. Because I was once in exactly the same place you are.”

  Claire’s words hit Brendan as hard as a punch to the stomach, and with just as much visceral pain. She was going to tell Stacy about her past—and it was going to hurt her too much.

  He shouldn’t interfere. Things were bad enough already between him and Claire. But he couldn’t just walk away.

  He went to them, pushing aside a bag that overflowed with white ribbon. “You don’t have to.”

  “Yes.” Her gaze met his. “I do.”

  Stacy shook her head. “I don’t understand. What are you two talking about?”

  “About me.” Claire said the words firmly, but he knew how much they had to cost her. “I was a pregnant teenager, like you. I was married to the person who beat me up. I felt as if I didn’t have any way out or anyone to turn to. I was like you, Stacy. So I really do understand.”

  Tears welled in Stacy’s eyes. “You? But—what happened to your baby? Did you give it up for adoption?”

  The pain that crossed Claire’s face was so intense that it seared him, too. He reached out almost involuntarily to clasp her hand. She probably didn’t welcome his support, but he had to touch her.

  “No. I didn’t have a chance.” Her voice choked. She took a breath, seeming to force air into her lungs. “He got mad and hit me. Again. He knocked me down a flight of steps.”

  “No.” Stacy’s face twisted.

  “He stormed out to get drunk with his buddies and left me there. By the time I was able to crawl to get help, it was too late. The doctors tried, but they couldn’t save my baby.”

  Tears poured down Stacy’s face. “I’m sorry. Claire, I’m sorry for what I said.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “I didn’t get it. I just thought you were helping me because you thought it was your duty or something. Or because the Rev pushed you into it.”

  “I didn’t even want to help you.” Claire managed a smile, somehow, as she put her arm around Stacy. “I knew it would remind me too much. But the Rev is pretty persuasive. Then I got to know you and care about you, and I knew I had to keep you from making the same mistake I did.”

  “You got married,” Stacy said. “You tried to stay with him.”

  “Yes.” Claire’s eyes flickered closed for an instant, as if to shut out the pain. “Oh, it wasn’t a wedding like Nolie and Gabe are having, in the church in front of all their friends. We just ran away and woke up a justice of the peace who wanted to see our money before he’d perform the ceremony. But it didn’t work. It wasn’t a real marriage, and two weeks later the beatings started.”

  Stacy stroked her shoulder and it was as if they’d traded places, so that Stacy was the comforter. “Didn’t you have anybody who could help you?”

  “I’d quarreled with my father, and I was ashamed to go back and tell him he’d been right. And believe me, my friends dropped me in a hurry when I couldn’t do the things they wanted to do anymore.”

  Oh, Claire. You didn’t have the church, because your father hadn’t bothered to keep you in it. And so you didn’t realize you could turn to your Heavenly Father for help.

  His heart shattered for that confused, hurting girl she’d been.

  “I didn’t have people like Brendan and his family who cared enough to help.” Claire seemed to be thinking along the same lines he was. “I tried to do it all myself, and I lost my baby as a result.”

  “What happened? How did you get out?”

  Claire brushed a lock of hair back from Stacy’s tear-stained face with a gentle hand. “I woke up in the hospital and found out the baby was gone. I didn’t want to let that little life be lost for no reason, so I decided I had to get out and try to amount to something. It wasn’t easy, but I did it. And you can, too.”

  Stacy mopped at her tears. “I don’t think I’m as strong as you.”

  “You’re stronger.” Claire squeezed her. “And besides, you have lots of people to help you. Brendan. The Flanagans. Your counselor. Me. You don’t have to do it on your own. We won’t let you down, will we, Brendan?”

  “No.” He had to force the word out through a tight throat. “We won’t. Promise.”

  Stacy seemed to straighten, as if she drew strength from their resolve. “Okay. I guess maybe this is going to be all right.” She gave a shaky laugh. “I’d better go put some cold water on my face. I didn’t mean to cry all over everybody.”

  “That’s okay.” He touched her shoulder. “We’re here for you, anytime.”

  He watched as the girl walked quickly out of the sanctuary, her shoulders squared. Then he turned back to Claire, unsure what kind of a welcome he’d get from her now that Stacy wasn’t there.

  “She sounds as if she’s getting it together,” he said.

  “She’ll be up and down plenty more times before she’s over this.” Claire’s voice was calm but her eyes slid away from his, and he knew they weren’t okay yet.

  Well, he hadn’t expected anything more. Claire still blamed him for telling Ted. With her background, he could understand why she felt the way she did.

  She’d say he couldn’t understand. The image of his father, fist raised, flickered through his mind. But he did understand, more than she’d ever know.

  “Well, we just have to be there for her. You’re already doing a good job of that. Telling her about yourself— that took a lot of courage, Claire.”

  Did she understand how much he admired that in her?

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure about the courage. There just didn’t se
em to be anything else to do.” She met his gaze, finally. “Strange as it sounds, I’m glad you were here. That made it easier, I think.”

  There was still a chasm between them that could probably never be crossed, but at least she was looking at him again.

  “It’s always easier to do something difficult if you have a friend with you,” he said carefully.

  “Yes.” Her face was guarded, but some of the barriers seemed to have vanished. “I’m glad to know I have your friendship.”

  “Always.” It wasn’t what he wanted to give her, but it would have to do. “Always, Claire.”

  If she got through this, she was never going to attend a wedding again. Claire pulled into a parking space at the church Friday afternoon, the back seat of her car filled with boxes of napkins and favors for the reception. She had so much to do, so little time, and today of all days Harvey Gray had decided to keep her late for a little talk.

  He’d kept her so long that she’d arrived at the party store moments before they closed. Luckily, they’d had her order ready and waiting for her.

  Usually those little talks of Gray’s were about work, and she valued that sign that he considered himself her mentor. Today had been different. He’d skirted around the subject, but it had become clear that he’d really wanted to issue a warning on the subject of Brendan Flanagan.

  She turned off the ignition and sat staring at the church. It sat squarely on its corner as if it had been there forever. Decades of tradition, that was the phrase Gray had used. He felt that Brendan wasn’t living up to that tradition.

  Brendan might think that Gray’s long acquaintance with his family would keep the man from taking any action against him, but if so, he was wrong. She rubbed her forehead. She ought to talk to Brendan about the situation with Gray again. Try to make him see the risk he was running.

  Would he listen? Probably not. Stubbornness seemed to be a Flanagan trait. She ought to understand, since she had more than her fair share of it, too.