by Marta Perry
“Hi. Looking for someone?”
She nodded. “It’s odd that Stacy’s not around. Have you seen her since the ceremony?”
“The last time I saw her, she was mopping up tears. Maybe she went to freshen up.”
“I’ll check the ladies’ room.”
“Can you give me a minute first?”
She nodded, eyes questioning.
He touched her hand to draw her out of the crowd and then quickly took his hand away. He shouldn’t give in to that need to touch her.
“Could you believe that turnaround Harvey Gray did?” He lowered his voice, although it was unlikely anyone could hear him in the din. “By the time we finished talking, he was acting as if the drop-in project was all his idea.”
She smiled. “If I were you, I’d just let him go on thinking that. Once he’s bought into something to that extent, he won’t let you down.”
“Rick must have been more persuasive than I’ve ever given him credit for. Or Harvey’s more civic-minded.” He found that thought sobering. Hadn’t he believed that other people could see the right thing and do it?
“Maybe you need to give them a chance to minister, too. You don’t have to do everything yourself, you know.”
He could only stare at her. “How did you get so smart about ministry?”
Was this the woman who’d openly proclaimed she didn’t need the church in her life? Claire seemed to have depths he hadn’t expected, too.
“You pushed me into helping with Stacy, remember?” Her smile was softer than he’d ever seen it. “I gained as much as she did from that experience. Is it so hard to believe that a man like Harvey Gray might benefit from doing something for someone else?”
“You make it sound like I’ve been acting spiritually superior to everyone else.” He hadn’t, had he? He found he didn’t like the image that created.
“No, not in that sense. But you do seem to think you have to do everything yourself. I guess I recognize that because I’m that way, too.”
“Kindred spirits,” he said, and then wished he hadn’t. He wanted—
Well, maybe it was safer not to think too much about what he wanted.
“Yes.” Her smile wavered for an instant. “Your aunt says you’ve always had too great a sense of responsibility. Maybe it’s time you shared some of that responsibility with your parishioners.”
“Aunt Siobhan knows me better than anyone.” Except you, Claire. “Maybe I’d better start taking her good advice. And yours.”
“So you’re going to find yourself working with Harvey Gray, and giving him credit for the program.”
She seemed intent on keeping herself out of the equation. He couldn’t blame her for that.
“He can have all the credit he wants, as long as the kids are being helped.”
“To say nothing of your job being safe.”
“That, too.” He smiled. “I have a feeling you’re responsible for this, no matter how much you deny it. After all, if you hadn’t taught Rick whatever he knows about relating to people like Gray, he’d never have succeeded.”
“He’s—”
A ringing stopped her words, and she fumbled in the green silk bag that matched her dress.
“You’re not telling me you brought a cell phone to the wedding, are you?”
She fished the phone out. “It was turned off during the ceremony, Pastor.” She put it to her ear.
The smile faded from her lips, and her face paled. He grasped her hand.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Her eyes met his, and the fear he saw there cut him to the bone.
“It’s Stacy.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “She’s not here. She’s at Ted’s. She’s in danger.”
Chapter Sixteen
For just a moment, Claire’s mind seemed to freeze completely. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t form any image except that of falling—falling, helpless to protect—
No. She shook off the thought, realizing that Brendan was gripping her hands fiercely in his.
“What did she say?”
She forced herself to concentrate. “She said something about having to talk to Ted, but he’s refusing to let her leave.”
“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “We’ll go right now. We’ll take care of her.”
Now her mind spun recklessly from one obligation to another. This was the day she’d planned for weeks. How could she walk away?
“The reception—they haven’t even served the meal yet. What am I going to do?”
His hands held hers. “You’re not going to try to do it all yourself, remember?”
She took a breath, her gaze meeting his. The concern she saw there warmed her, and she knew he was right. It was time to let go of her obsessive need to control everything. “I don’t have to. Do you see Siobhan or Mary Kate?”
He nodded, raising his hand, and in a moment Siobhan slipped through the crowd to them.
“Something’s wrong. What is it?” Her blue eyes went dark with concern.
“Stacy’s in trouble. We’ve got to go,” Brendan said rapidly. “We need you to take over here.”
Claire managed another breath, trying to organize the things Siobhan needed to know. Don’t panic. It will be all right.
“The caterer is probably about ready to start serving. Maybe you can deal with him and have Seth take responsibility for getting everyone seated.” She pressed her hands to her temples, hoping she wasn’t letting anything drop. “If we’re not back by the time you’re ready to serve the cake—”
“Don’t even think about it.” Siobhan’s arms went around her in a quick, reassuring hug. “You just go to Stacy. She’s the one who needs you now. We’ll take care of everything here, I promise.”
Siobhan was right. She didn’t have to issue orders or send memos or stand over them to make sure everything was done the way she wanted. They would take care of everything.
“Thank you.” She pressed her cheek against Siobhan’s. “We’ll call you as soon as we can.”
“We’ll be praying.”
Brendan caught her hand and led her toward the kitchen door. “We’d better go out the back. My car is there, and it will be easier to get away without too many people noticing.”
They hurried through the kitchen. From the corner of her eye she spotted the caterer gaping at her. She felt a flicker of panic. She should explain—
But then she saw Siobhan taking his arm and knew she didn’t have to. Siobhan would handle it.
They ran to the car. In an instant, it seemed, Brendan had spun out of the lot.
“It’s not far.” He took the corner quickly. “We’ll get there in time. And Ted probably knows she called us. He won’t do anything stupid.”
She could only manage to nod, her hands clasping each other tightly.
Please, Father. Be with Stacy. She needs Your help. Protect her.
The words echoed in her mind. And then she realized who else needed her prayers.
Ted. Her heart rebelled, but she forced the words to form. Be with him, too, Father. I don’t really want to pray for him, but I know he needs help. He’s just as lost as she is.
The truth of her own prayer hit her then. Ted was lost. No matter how much anger she felt at him for what he’d done, she had to feel sorrow, too.
“Claire? Are you all right?” Brendan gave her a concerned glance.
“I’m okay.” Then she realized he meant her silence. “I was praying.”
It seemed to take him a moment to digest that. “You were praying.”
“Yes.” She stared out the window for a moment, blanking out the view of busy streets. There was no reason to keep this from Brendan, and every reason to tell him.
“I’ve found my way back.” The words cost her an effort, but she managed them. “I didn’t want to. I didn’t even realize I was lost.” She looked at him. “There’s something else to your credit, Pastor. Thanks to you, I began to realize what was missing in my life
.”
Brendan reached across to grip her hand, and she saw that his eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I’m glad, Claire. Very glad.”
She smiled. “I thought you might be.”
He squeezed her fingers and then grabbed the wheel again to take the turn onto Second Street.
“I don’t think I deserve any credit, though.” He shook his head. “I haven’t been a very sterling example of what a Christian should be.”
“Yes. You have,” she said softly. More than you know, I’m afraid.
A wave of sorrow swept over her. Her lack of faith— the thing that could have been the biggest barrier between them—had disappeared, but that didn’t matter. Brendan was as far away as ever.
She suppressed the thought. All her concern now had to be for Stacy. There’d be plenty of time ahead to get past what might have been between her and Brendan. She was going to be fine, but Stacy—
“Why on earth did she go there?” The question burst out of her. “She must have slipped out as soon as the ceremony was over. What could she have been thinking?”
“I wish I knew.” Brendan leaned forward, scanning the crowded block for a parking space. “I thought she trusted us enough now to tell someone what she was doing.”
“She knew we wouldn’t let her go alone.” She grasped the armrest as Brendan jolted the car up onto the curb. “What are you doing?”
He was already on the sidewalk, and she slid out of the car to follow him.
“I’ll worry about a ticket later.” He yanked the building door open, releasing the stale smell of the dusty stairwell. Then he stopped, looking at her. “Stay here. Please, Claire. You shouldn’t go in.”
For an instant, as she stared at the steep wooden stairs, the fear took over. Falling—
“No.” She swallowed hard, choking down the fear. “I’m still afraid, but it’s not going to paralyze me. I can let God handle it for me.”
She pushed past him, starting up the stairs, and she heard the thud of his footsteps behind her.
Please, Lord. Please, Lord.
The words of the prayer seemed to keep time with their rush up the stairs. They weren’t alone. He was with them.
And Siobhan and the others who were praying for them right now. They weren’t alone.
She would never be alone again.
Claire had found a way to deal with her fears, Brendan realized. He grabbed the rail to propel himself up the last few steps. She was still afraid, but now she trusted God to carry her through.
In spite of his fears for Stacy and for Ted, a fierce happiness swept through him. Thank You, Father. Thank You for bringing Claire back to You.
They reached the hallway. He didn’t bother to knock. He just grabbed the door and shoved, and it flew open. The force of his forward movement carried him clear into the room. Claire was right behind him.
Stacy cowered against the refrigerator, the table cluttered with pizza boxes and hamburger wrappers between her and Ted. Ted swung around at their entrance, his big hands doubling into fists, but Brendan’s first thought was for Stacy.
“Stacy. Are you all right?”
The girl nodded, choking on a sob. Her face was tear-stained but otherwise unmarked, and the turquoise silk dress Claire had bought her for the wedding didn’t show signs of a struggle.
Thank You, Father. You brought us here in time.
“What are you doing here? We don’t want you.” Ted swayed a little. The boy had been obviously been drinking.
An acrid taste formed in his mouth. Drinking and anger made a dangerous combination. He certainly knew that as well as anyone. His father—
No. He wouldn’t let that thought in.
“Maybe you don’t, Ted.” He moved slowly toward the boy, keeping his voice low. “But Stacy does. She called and asked us to come and talk with you.”
“She doesn’t want you. She doesn’t need anybody but me. She knows I’ll take care of her.”
“Ted, look at me.” If he could keep the kid focused on him it would give Claire a chance to get to Stacy. “You know I wouldn’t lie to you, don’t you?”
Ted lowered his head, shaking it as if trying to think through the fog of alcohol. “No. I guess you always been square with me, Rev.”
The familiar nickname eased the tension inside him by a hair. If Ted was still reachable by reason, they had a chance to get through this situation without any further grief.
“I’m telling you the truth now. You can’t resolve things with Stacy by scaring her or telling her what to do.”
“I’m not.”
Brendan sensed, rather than saw, Claire moving toward Stacy. The girl seemed frozen to the spot. If they were going to get her out of here, they’d have to take her.
Claire was afraid. But she was doing it anyway.
“Yes, I think you are.” He took another step, bringing him almost within arm’s reach of the boy. “She wouldn’t have called us unless you’d scared her.”
“She shouldn’t have done that. I told her. All I want to do is make things right with her.”
“How are you going to do that?” His voice sharpened as the boy’s head moved, as if he’d look toward Stacy. “Look at me. How will you make things right?”
“I said I’d marry her.” The kid’s face screwed up, and he looked like a six-year-old about to cry.
But Ted wasn’t a six-year-old. He was a confused, angry seventeen-year-old with a grown man’s strength and a dangerous temper.
“Isn’t that the right thing to do?” Ted’s voice shot up. He thrust his face toward Brendan belligerently. “Isn’t it? If you’d leave us alone, we’d take care of ourselves.”
Brendan felt his own anger, black and ugly, boil under the surface. He’d lost control when Rick had done something minor in comparison to this. What might he do if Ted went after the women?
“Come on, Ted. You don’t believe that.”
It took more strength than he’d known he had to keep his voice even. Claire had reached Stacy now, knowing what he wanted her to do without the need for words. She started edging Stacy, a step at a time, toward the door.
They were going to make it. If Claire could just get Stacy outside without anything going wrong, they’d be okay. Ted wouldn’t start swinging. He wouldn’t lose control.
“Stacy loves me. Tell them, Stacy.”
Just that quickly, the situation disintegrated out of control. Ted swung toward Stacy as he said the words and saw what Claire was doing. With a muttered curse, he launched himself toward Claire and Stacy.
Brendan flew across the few feet of space and got between them. Ted barreled into him, and he grabbed the boy, feeling his anger surge, hot and reckless, ready to strike out.
“Claire, get out of here. Now.”
He heard the door, the rush of their footsteps, the door slamming closed. Then Ted’s fist connected with his jaw and for an instant he didn’t hear anything.
He struggled with the boy, trying to hold on to him, trying to control himself, fearing that if he struck back he wouldn’t be able to stop, he’d be like his father—
No. He couldn’t control the anger. He saw the truth of that.
But God could. Relief flooded through him. God could.
He clamped his arms tightly around Ted, absorbing the kid’s struggles with his own body as he realized the truth. He didn’t have to do it himself. All he had to do was give God the control.
The fight seemed to go out of Ted. He stumbled back a step, his eyes searching Brendan’s face.
“I was just trying to do the right thing. Isn’t getting married the right thing?”
He seemed to see his parents more clearly than he ever had before. They’d married, but they’d brought out the worst in each other, turning their home into a battlefield.
“Not always.” He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “The right thing has to be what’s best for Stacy and the baby. That might mean giving up both of them before someone gets hurt.”
/> Ted’s face crumpled, tears spurting from his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t. But I can’t stop. You gotta help me.”
“I know.” Thank You, Father. “I will.”
The reception was drawing to a close. Claire stood near the cake table, watching as Gabe and Nolie said goodbye to their guests. She’d missed most of the reception, but she didn’t have any regrets.
“Did you get a piece of cake?”
She discovered she could look at Brendan without wincing. That was a step forward, wasn’t it?
“A little one. How about you?”
He nodded. “I shared it with Stacy. She seems to be recovering.” He paused a moment. “I didn’t want to ask her any questions, but did she ever tell you what made her go to Ted’s?”
“She said it was because of the wedding.” She blinked back the tears that wanted to spill over whenever she thought of the girl’s words. “She said that being involved with the wedding made her see what marriage is supposed to be. She realized that neither she nor Ted is ready for that, so she went there to tell him so.”
Tears seemed to sparkle in Brendan’s eyes, too. “Well.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe the future is looking up for Stacy and her baby. And for Ted.”
“Bittersweet.” Amazing how appropriate that word was for her feelings as well as Stacy’s. “She’s going to give the baby up for adoption. It’ll break her heart, but she knows it’s the right thing to do.”
“She’s going to need a lot of support.”
She smiled, brushing away the tears. “She’s going to get it.” Stacy would have the support she hadn’t had, and that would make all the difference.
“Yes. She is.” Their eyes connected, and he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. He smiled. “You should be happy, Claire. You did exactly what you said you were going to do. You put on the perfect wedding for Gabe and Nolie.”
“It didn’t turn out quite the way I intended.”
“Weddings never do.”
“I guess not.” She watched as Gabe swung Nolie into his arms for a kiss. “They’re happy, that’s the important thing.” She shrugged. “So I am, too.”
