Her mother’s lovingly tended garden was bathed in moonlight. Katie’s rickety wooden wagon stood beneath the rope swings that hung from the massive oak, the one her mother always begged her father to trim. “Patrick, my garden needs sunlight,” she would argue, and Father would give her the stern eye, followed by a somewhat intense discussion, the closest thing to an argument Faith ever saw between them. But tonight, all seemed quite peaceful and still as her eyes searched in the dark for some sign of intrusion.
And then she saw him. Her heart clutched in its usual exasperating fashion. He was standing there, bold and motionless in his stance, coat slung over his shoulder and hip cocked. His handsome face was illuminated in the moonlight as he peered up at her window. Faith’s eyes flitted to Charity’s bed. The breath, thick in her throat, slowly released when her sister didn’t stir. Shifting back to the window, she carefully raised the sash.
He lifted his hand to shield his eyes. “Charity, is that you? I need to see you.” His voice sounded different, a slow drawl, almost slurred in speech.
Faith struggled to restrain her panic. “Collin, go home! You’ll wake my father. I’m serious—please leave!”
She heard his familiar laugh, slightly muffled and completely indifferent to her plea. In brazen arrogance, he tossed his coat over a limb and leaned against the oak, legs casually crossed and arms folded. “Nope, not goin’ anywhere, not ’til I can see you, touch you, feel your lips on mine …” His teasing tone increased in volume with each word spoken, causing a chill to ice her skin.
“All right, Collin, please hush! I’m coming!” She closed the window as quietly as possible and stole one more glance at Charity’s bed. After reaching for her robe and slippers, she tiptoed toward the door. Except for the deafening pounding of her heart, all was quiet in the house as she made her way down the stairs to the kitchen. Blarney was close on her heels, tail wagging with curiosity.
“Stay, Blarney,” she whispered as she silently opened the door to slip outside. The chill of the night air shivered through her, and she pulled her robe tighter about her, bracing herself for more than the cold. She stared out at the oak, and her heart skipped a beat when he wasn’t there.
Stepping forward on the porch, she strained her eyes to catch sight of him. And then, like a thief in the night, he was behind her, his strong arms encircling her waist and his lips lost in her hair. He was kissing her, whispering things that caused her cheeks to flame in the glow of the moonlight. The heat of his touch felt like fire. Oh, God, I need your help!
And then, somewhere deep inside, beneath the passion he stirred, she could see things clearly once again. Yes, she wanted this—and she wanted it with him. But it had to be God’s way, not hers and certainly not Collin’s.
With a calm not experienced in his presence before, Faith pried his arms from her waist and slowly turned, hands propped on his chest to push him away. The startled look on his face almost made her smile as she stepped back.
“It’s you!” he muttered, clearly taken by surprise, and she noticed his reflexes were a bit slower than usual. The easy smile was conspicuously absent, and he seemed shaken.
“Did you think I was going to send my sister down? Are you crazy … or just not very bright?” This was fun. It felt wonderful to get the best of Collin McGuire.
Collin blinked, and then instinct kicked in with the slow smile. His eyes traveled from her face, down her body, and back up again. Even in the moonlight, he could see her blush.
“No,” he drawled, “I just thought you wanted me for yourself.”
She caught her breath and jerked her robe around her shivering frame. “You are the most egotistical, low, selfish human being—”
“Well, you might have me on egotistical and low, but lady, on the selfish, I’m afraid you got it all over me.”
He heard the soft catch of her breath as her lips parted. “Me? Over you? You must be drunk!”
Collin chuckled to himself and ambled over to the porch swing to sit with his long legs sprawled out before him. “Yeah, I’ve had a few, no question about that. But I’m not drunk—at least not too drunk to see things the way they are.” He watched her from the shadows of the swing, taking in the way her hair glinted in the moonlight and spilled over her shoulders. Her slight form shivered in her thin robe, which she clutched tightly with pinched fingers.
“And what way are they, exactly?” Her tone was curt.
Collin took his time answering. Never had he derived so much pleasure from rattling a woman. She was this sweet, demure little thing whose temper could be tripped faster than flipping a switch. A pretty powder keg, to be sure, righteous and noble until you lit the spark that made her blow. And then the fun began. He cocked his head and looked up, his lips easing into a knowing smile.
“Well, I’m not the one who’s keeping her sister from spending time with the man she loves.” He paused for effect, then continued. “Nor am I the one telling Bree Muldoon she’s on the path to hell if she, shall we say, spends time with me?” His smile flattened, replaced by intense scrutiny as his eyes pierced hers. “I’m not sure, but it looks to me like one of two things. You either are the most selfish thing around or …”
Her eyelids flickered and her mouth opened slightly, as if she couldn’t breathe.
“You want me for yourself. So which is it? Tell me, Faith O’Connor, have I gotten to you?” It grated how his heart hammered in his chest whenever she was near, but he truly relished the effect he obviously had on her. He was glad he could get some of his own back. She had possessed his thoughts too much of late, and he wanted her to pay. She had no right to interfere in his relationship with Charity—or in his thoughts. He watched her now, a frail thing shuddering in the wind, all defenses stripped, and fought the urge to jump up and grab her in his arms. He swore softly under his breath. Why does she make me feel this way?
She looked sick standing there, the frigid wind whipping at her hair. Without a word, she moved to the door, then turned to confront him, her back stiff and her face set. “You know, Collin, I feel sorry for you. You think every woman will collapse under your spell. The charming Collin McGuire, so irresistible to women. Well, you’re wrong. Not every woman chooses to do so, at least not this one. I’m looking for someone I can give my heart to and know it will be safe. Someone strong and good and moral. You—you’re just bent on your own quest of misguided lust, and I doubt if you will ever be satisfied.”
She turned the knob, and in a split second he was there, his face inches from her own. She turned away as if she could smell the liquor on his breath. “Pretty high and mighty, aren’t we, Faith O’Connor? I think you’re lying. I think I have gotten to you, only you don’t want me to know it. Why don’t we just see?”
He pressed her back against the door, his lips muffling her response. He kissed her long and hard until the fight faded away. Only then did his lips leave her mouth to stray along the curve of her chin and nip at her earlobe. She moaned, her passion igniting him like no other woman had ever done. He was breathing hard and fast as his lips smothered her neck, and the ecstasy of it all was so staggering, he thought he would lose his mind. What am I doing?
She seemed so weak in his arms but somehow managed to pull away, and when she spoke, her whisper was an urgent plea. “No! I don’t want this—please, Collin, no!”
His eyes were on fire. “Yes, you do! I can feel it! You can’t lie to me, Faith, I feel it!”
She opened her mouth to protest, but his lips silenced her, softening against her own. The sweetness of her kiss mingled with salty tears that glistened on her cheek. Stunned, Collin tilted her face in the moonlight.
“You’re crying!” he uttered in surprise. Silently, and with more tenderness than he intended, he wiped her face with his fingers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered gruffly, “I didn’t mean to be rough, but you got under my skin.” He cupped her chin firmly with his hand, gentling his tone. “I know you’re feeling the same thing I am, Faith. Why are you f
ighting it?”
She sniffed and leaned against the door, wiping her nose with her sleeve. She looked like such a little girl standing there, and Collin knew he was treading on dangerous ground.
“Because I really don’t want to do this. I … I do feel wonderful things when you kiss me, Collin, I won’t lie to you. But it can’t happen again. I don’t want it to happen again, please.”
He felt a sharp pain in his gut. What was she saying? There was something remarkable between them—they both felt it. Was she going to walk away from it? He shifted, keenly aware of her gaze. He fanned his fingers through his hair, then rubbed at his temple. “Because of Charity?” he asked, his eyes back on hers.
“No … I mean, yes, of course because of Charity. But not just because of her.”
“What, then?” He stepped back, thrusting his hands in his pockets. He suddenly felt like such a little boy—so unlike himself—and horribly awkward as she stared up at him.
“Because of Charity, yes, and because of my father, but mostly because of the way you make me feel. I … can’t afford to feel that way, Collin. The feelings—they scare me.”
He grabbed her shoulders, relief flooding through him. “They scare me too, Faith, from that first moment in the park. I’m not sure what’s going on, but there’s something here, a pull between us. I felt it then when I looked in your eyes, and I know you felt it too. I don’t know why or how, but it’s there and it’s real, and I can’t fight it anymore. Any more than you can. Why do we even have to?”
She swallowed hard as she looked up at him. “Because these feelings—as wonderful as they are—they’re not right. Not now, maybe not ever.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. He dropped his hands to his sides, and she rubbed her arms where his warmth had been. “What are you talking about, Faith? You’ve got me out of my mind. Do you want me or not?”
She took a deep breath before answering. “No. Not this way.”
The impact of her words was like a physical blow. He bent over slightly, all arrogance crashing to the ground. “Why?” His voice was a whisper.
She reached to gently touch his arm. “Because I want it to be right. That’s more important to me than anything in the world. Yes, I feel the fire when you touch me, but I need more than that. I need more than the physical aspect, hard as that is to resist. As much as I … want you … I have to be sure it’s also what God wants.”
He couldn’t have been more stunned if she had slapped him. “God? What the blazes does God have to do with it?”
Her green eyes bristled. “Everything. I don’t want anything or anyone unless it’s what God wants.”
“And what does God want?” he asked, his tone mocking.
“He wants you, Collin. He wants you to pursue him instead of your lust.”
He could feel his anger flare. Pressing toward her once again, he ran his hand up the side of her robe. He laughed when she caught her breath. “Oh, really? And this God of yours, is he going to keep you warm at night?”
She thrust his hand away. “You are something, Collin McGuire. All you think about, care about, is your desire for the moment. Well, I want more, much more. I’m looking for something you don’t seem to know a lot about—genuine love, like the kind between my parents. And yes, Collin, the kind of love where God is at the center. That’s the only thing I’m going to settle for, and I guarantee it’ll have more passion than you’ll know in a lifetime.”
“I doubt that. And who’s gonna give you this passionate love—God?”
“Someone will … someone who loves God as much as I do. I’m saving it for him, Collin. All the passion you provoke in me, it all belongs to him, wherever he is.”
“You go right ahead, lady,” he said, his eyes stinging with fury. “You save all that holy love of yours for God. But I’ll lay good money on the table that says you’re gonna end up a very bitter and a very lonely old maid.”
Thrusting her chin, she stared boldly into his eyes, a faint smile on her lips. “No, I don’t think so. I think you have the future all wrong. Someday, twenty years down the road, when you’re still looking for love in the arms of any girl, you and I will probably meet again. And, I think you’ll know me. I’ll be the one with the smile on my face.”
And before he could grab her once again, she turned and slipped inside, quickly locking the door behind her. Collin stared after her, open-mouthed and totally bewildered. Dramatic exits usually belonged to him. But for once, like it or not, he’d finally been upstaged.
7
Something was wrong. Charity wasn’t herself. All she’d done all morning was mope around, never saying a peep, not even the usual gibes as Faith sprawled on her bed writing poetry. She seemed almost meek, so unlike Charity. She sat on her bed, staring blankly out the window.
Faith stopped writing. “Are you all right? I mean, you haven’t said a word to anyone all morning. I thought you would be at the library today, or at least out with someone …”
Charity slumped against the headboard. “I’m just a little down today, I suppose.”
Faith searched her sister’s face. “What’s wrong? Is it Collin?” she asked against her better judgment.
Several seconds passed before Charity nodded. Faith pushed her journal aside and rose, moving to sit next to her sister. “Did you have a fight?”
Charity shook her head and sniffled.
“Then what?”
Her sister swatted a tear from her cheek and slowly sat up on the bed. “I haven’t seen him. Not once for over a month now. I’ve sent messages through Mary, but he never came. I don’t know what’s wrong. Oh, Faith, what if there’s somebody else?”
Charity turned, her face stricken with fear, and Faith put her arms around her. She closed her eyes. It had been exactly a month since her encounter with Collin on the back porch. Surely he wasn’t avoiding Charity because of her? Faith opened her eyes again. Well, if he was, it was an answer to prayer. She felt sorry for Charity, but in her heart she was grateful. Collin McGuire wasn’t good for her sister. And until God got ahold of him, if he ever did, Faith was afraid Collin McGuire wouldn’t be good for anyone.
“Charity, I didn’t want to tell you this before, but I think I need to now. Once I do, you’ll understand why it’s better you don’t see him anymore.”
Charity pulled away. “Tell me what?”
Faith went to her drawer, plucked out a handkerchief, and handed it to her sister. Charity took it and blew her nose, her eyes riveted to Faith’s face.
“Charity … Collin sees … other women.”
Charity’s eyes went wide. “You’re lying!”
Faith felt a blush rise in her cheeks as her sister stared at her in disbelief. “No, I’m not lying. I know for a fact he does. There’s this girl at work—her name is Briana—and it seems she’s in love with him too. Only …”
Charity stood up. “You’re lying! Collin cares for me; he’s told me so. And I know it in my heart. He couldn’t be in love with anyone else.”
“I didn’t say he loved her, Charity.” Faith hesitated as she searched for the right words. “I just know that … well, Briana told me that …”
“Told you what?” Charity looked as if she were going to shake her.
“Briana told me she and Collin, well, they’re intimate. At least they were when we last spoke. Charity, listen to me. Collin uses Briana. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Charity sank to the bed, her face turning a sickly pale.
“Charity, he’s no good for you. Father’s right—Collin’s only out for Collin. He’ll tell you he loves you, just like he used to tell Briana, but in the end, it’s just to get what he wants.”
Without saying a word, Charity rose. She squared her shoulders and lifted her head. “That may be true for your Briana, but it’s not true for me. Collin does care for me; I know it. We’ve kissed, but he’s never, ever crossed the line with me. I know in my heart he’s not using me to get what he wants.” Charity
started for the door, then turned to give Faith an icy look. A lump shifted in Faith’s throat as Charity’s chin jutted in defiance. “But, if that’s what it takes …” She turned to leave.
Faith couldn’t believe her ears. She ran to grab her sister’s arm and spun her around. “What are you saying? That you’re going to try to win him like Briana did? Are you out of your mind? It didn’t work for Briana. What makes you think it will work for you?”
“Why not? I love him.” Charity’s voice chilled the air.
“Because it’s wrong! It’s against everything we believe in, everything Mother and Father have taught us. It’s against God, Charity. It’s not what he wants for you, and you know it.”
“So what? I know what I want for me, and that’s all that matters. You and your oh-so-devout faith in God. Well, it hasn’t done a whole lot for you when it comes to Collin McGuire, now has it, Faith?”
Faith went cold. “What are you talking about?” she whispered.
Charity’s smile was mocking. “I’m talking about the undying love you’ve had for Collin for years now, only he doesn’t even know you exist.”
“You’re out of your mind …”
“Am I? Like you’re out of your mind with love when you write pages and pages of poetry about him?”
“You’ve … read my journal …” Faith’s voice was barely audible as the realization sunk in. The blood rushed from her face.
“Of course I have, for years now. At first, I only read it because I was bored and thought it was funny. All you ever wrote about was Collin, Collin, Collin. Then I found out who Collin was, and suddenly, I didn’t think you were so crazy anymore. So you see, big sister, I actually have you to thank for my unceasing devotion to the man I have every intention of marrying—one way or the other. And there’s nothing you, Mother or Father, or God can do about it.”
A Passion Most Pure (The Daughters of Boston Book #1): A Novel Page 10
