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

by Julie Lessman

  Collin chugged his beer, then pushed the empty glass toward Lucas. “Middle of September, if we don’t go to war first.”

  Jackson punched Collin on the arm. “Come on, Collin, I don’t want to be talking war. It’s Saint Patty’s Day, and I aim to enjoy it. Besides, that woman of yours doesn’t let you out all that often. Let’s make the most of tonight.”

  “Got you on a short leash, does she now?” Lucas grinned ear-to-ear, obviously tickled Collin McGuire would allow a woman to hog-tie him. He placed another glass with foam spilling down its side in front of Collin.

  Collin shot Lucas a look that tempered his grin, then quickly drained half the mug. “Nobody’s got me on a leash, Lucas. I’ve just got better things to do with my time than hang out with this riffraff.” He flicked Jackson’s head.

  “Don’t be a stranger, Collin. A wife needs to know a man’s got someplace to go if she gives him any grief.” Lucas grinned and worked his way down the bar.

  Jackson watched Collin finish his second beer in record time. “Hey, buddy, take it easy. I know it’s been awhile, but we have all night. I sure don’t wanna carry you home. So, how’s ‘almost-married life’ treating ya?”

  Collin swiveled on the stool to scope out the scenery. “It’s okay. You know what, Jackson? None of these girls can hold a candle to Charity. She’s one beautiful woman. I’m a lucky man.”

  Jackson grinned and gulped his brew. “Now, why am I having trouble believing that?”

  Collin glanced at him sideways. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Jackson almost choked on his beer. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, then turned to look Collin straight in the eye. “Look, Collin, this is me, Jackson. I’ve known you since we were kids. You can’t pull one over on me—you’re miserable! What are you doing this for?”

  Collin signaled Lucas for another beer. “Drop it, Jackson. You’re just mad ’cause you lost a drinking buddy.”

  “Maybe.” Jackson leaned against the bar, head cocked as he studied his friend. “I just hope you’re not making the biggest mistake of your life. I’ve seen you happier.”

  “And drunker. But not for long.”

  “So, you know what you’re doing, do you?”

  Lucas pushed another brew his way, and Collin flicked the sweat from the side of his mug. He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “Yeah, Jackson, I do. Charity’s a great girl, and she’s got the most incredible family. Bottom line? I’m happy when I’m there.”

  Jackson took another drink. “And the sister?”

  Collin lowered his head, then looked up through hooded eyes. “She’s an inconvenience, I won’t lie to you. But that’ll go away when Charity and I are married, if you know what I mean.”

  “The old man keeps pretty close tabs on Charity, does he?” Jackson eyed him closely.

  Collin grinned. “Afraid so. She’s off-limits until the gold band’s in place.”

  Jackson chuckled. “Well, how do you like that? For the first time in his life, Collin McGuire’s in the same predicament as me—love starved! Who said life wasn’t fair?”

  Collin laughed. “Yeah, but mine’s by choice.” His smile turned wicked as he took a sip of beer.

  Jackson leaned close, a devilish gleam in his eye. “So whaddya say we do something about it? I hear Saint Patty’s Day does strange things to the ladies.”

  Collin’s eyes were slits as he studied his friend. The beer was beginning to take effect. He didn’t answer right away. When he did, a mischievous grin spread across his lips like a little boy with one toe over the line. He turned to assess the selection of eligible females in the room.

  “There’s no ring on my finger yet, now is there?” Lifting his glass in the air, he made a toast. “To Saint Patrick of Ireland.”

  “To bachelorhood,” Jackson replied.

  Collin grinned, focusing on two pretty girls across the room. “To the best night of our lives,” he muttered. They both downed their mugs and signaled Lucas for another.

  “It’s late, Danny; I better go in.” Faith rose from the porch swing and smiled. “St. Pat’s with your family was a lot of fun.”

  He reached for her hand. “Not yet, Faith, please? Look at that moon—it’s amazing! When was the last time you saw weather like this in March? It must be sixty degrees. And tomorrow’s Sunday—you can sleep in.”

  Danny’s tone was earnest, and Faith could do nothing but relent. Shaking her head, she sat down again. He drew her close. “It is an amazing moon,” she said as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Sent by St. Patrick himself, no doubt.”

  “Faith?”

  “Yes?”

  He stared at the moon, his throat bobbing before he spoke. “I know we’re friends, but I swear, I’ve never wanted to kiss a friend so badly in my life.”

  She looked away. Over a month had passed since that night in the car. There hadn’t been more than a peck on the cheek between them. “Danny, I …” She stopped and turned to face him. “I’d like that.”

  His arms tightened. “Oh, Faith, I’m crazy about you. Have been from the start.” He leaned to kiss her, tenderly at first, then more passionately.

  “Danny …” she whispered, pulling away. His arm tugged her back. Her palms flattened against his chest in protest. “Danny, please! This is exactly why I want to take it slow.” She looked up at him. “I care about you, I do. More than as a friend. And I like kissing you. But all of this leads to feelings, to things we aren’t ready for yet. Things I’m not ready for … at least for a while.”

  He stood and pulled her in his arms, his tall frame towering. “Faith, I know what your beliefs are. I know how important God is in your life. He’s important to me too. I just didn’t know how much until you came along. I’m not sorry I kissed you. Like I said, I’m crazy about you. But I can’t just be friends—not any longer.” He paused. “So what do we do now?”

  Faith drew a deep breath. “Well, I guess it’s too late for friends, anyway. I’m afraid Maisie was right. Your kisses are … very nice. But we have to take it slow.”

  “So … the kiss won you over, did it?” He reached to pull her close. She dodged him.

  “Yes, and the kiss can push me away just the same. I think we better call it a night,” she said softly. “And it’s been quite a night, I think.”

  He smiled. “Good night, Faith.” He gently grazed her lips with his. “Happy Saint Pat’s.”

  “Oh, it is.”

  Danny’s smile broke into a grin as he opened the door for her. She closed it again, took off her wrap, and glanced at the clock in the hall—almost midnight. She yawned.

  Blarney ambled down the stairs to greet her, tail wagging and eyes begging for attention. Faith leaned to pet him, then jumped at a faint knock at the door. She opened it.

  Danny stood there grinning like a fool. “Look, you’re not going to change your mind, are you? I mean, we’re more than friends, right?” He looked a tad like Blarney with his wide eyes and hopeful look.

  She laughed and leaned against the door, nodding.

  “Good!” He took a deep breath and kissed her again, allowing his lips to linger.

  She fought a smile and tried to look stern. “Go home, Danny. It’s late. Or it may change to friends before you reach your car.”

  He saluted. “Yes, ma’am! Sleep well. I know I will.”

  She closed the door again, suddenly drained. She was halfway up the stairs when she heard another quiet knock. She sighed and shook her head as she descended the steps. Is he trying to make up for all the lost kisses in one evening? She opened the door a crack. “Okay, what did you forget this time—”

  “I thought he would never leave,” Collin said. “Been hiding in those blasted bushes forever.”

  Even in the dark, she could tell he’d been drinking. A lot, from the looks of it. His speech was slurred, his eyes glassy, and his hair tumbled over his eyes like he’d just rolled out of bed. He swayed ever so slightly, despite one arm balanced
against the door. “So, did you have a good time with Danny Boy?”

  “Collin, you’re drunk! Do you realize what will happen if Father sees you like this?”

  He drooped against the door frame, head bobbing in slow motion. “Yessss … I do. But I have to see Charity. Right now.”

  Faith glanced upstairs, her heart jumping hurdles at the prospect of her parents finding Collin like this. “Why? Is something wrong?” Her tone was urgent.

  “Need to talk—hafta tell her somethin’.” He was tilting more noticeably now, and Faith was terrified he would keel over. She shot a frantic peek up the stairs, then lassoed his waist with her arms. With a grunt, she shifted him from the door onto her small frame, then stumbled under his weight. Managing to steady herself, she weaved their way to the porch swing. The smell of beer and smoke assailed her as she unloaded him in the swing.

  “A devil of a time t’ come on t’ me, Faith,” he slurred. “You should be ashamed—I’m almos’ a married man.”

  “Oh hush, Collin. You’re drunk, and if my father sees you like this, there won’t be any wedding.”

  “Aw, don’ be mad. I guess maybe I had a little too much t’ drink, but it’s …” He blinked at his watch. “Or was … Saint Patty’s Day.” He propped his head back against the swing and sighed. “Guess I can’t hold my beer like I used to.”

  “Well, you won’t be holding Charity like you used to either, if you get caught. You need coffee. Promise you’ll stay right here while I go brew some.”

  He nodded and closed his eyes. Faith watched him for a moment, her heart aching in her chest, then slipped back inside to get the coffee.

  He was asleep when she returned, so she sat on the swing for a moment, the cup steaming in her hand. He looked like such a little boy, so innocent in sleep, his eyes fringed with the longest lashes she had ever seen. Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at him, and her breath accelerated as it always did when he was near. Never had she seen a more handsome man than Collin McGuire. He was well-suited for her sister.

  Slowly, Faith stood and shook his arm. He mumbled something indistinguishable and opened his eyes to stare blankly at her.

  She held out the coffee. “Collin, take the coffee and drink it, please.”

  He stirred, recognition dawning on his face. He gave her a drowsy smile. “Faith …” His eyes widened as his memory kicked in. “Uh-oh. I didn’t wake anybody, did I?” He tried to sit up, then slumped back in the swing, his hand flying to his head. “Sweet blazes, my head hurts!” He peered up from under those sweeping lashes. “Did ya say something ’bout coffee?”

  She handed it to him, and he took it, his hands shaking as he bent to drink it. When he drained the cup, he handed it back to her. “Thanks. Got any more? I think I could use it.”

  She nodded and started for the door, turning as he reached out to touch her arm. “Faith … will ya stay up and talk with me a while? I really need to talk.”

  She looked at his handsome face in the moonlight and could think of nothing she’d rather do. He saw her nod, then dropped his grasp on her arm. Reclining once again, he closed his eyes.

  She woke him again when she returned with the second cup. He took the coffee and drank it, slower this time, eyes staring ahead into the moonlit yard. She settled beside him, content, waiting for him to speak.

  “So you and Danny—more than friends now?” He took another sip, his gaze shifting from the yard to the sky studded with stars.

  “Just exactly how much did you hear?” she wanted to know, her voice chafing.

  Collin turned and attempted a grin, then was caught off guard at just how pretty she looked with the glow of moonlight in her face. He averted his gaze, gulping his coffee instead of sipping. “Don’t be mad—I didn’t mean to spy. I thought for sure your good night would be brief.” He glanced at her again. “I know how committed you are to … keeping it brief.”

  Even in the moonlight, he could see her blush, and his heart began to race. “Do you love him?” His question was barely audible.

  She thought about it awhile before answering. “No, I don’t think so, at least not yet. I mean, I really care about him. He’s a very good friend who is suddenly becoming, well, more than a friend.” She wrinkled her nose and smiled. “I suppose time will tell. So, Collin, what’s bothering you enough to risk my father throwing you out on your ear?”

  He took a deep breath and set the empty cup down on the porch. He pressed forward with his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together to rest his chin. His eyes stared straight ahead and his voice was quiet. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Marrying Charity—I’m just not sure.”

  Her lips parted, and he heard the soft intake of air in her throat.

  “She deserves better, Faith,” he continued. He buried his face in his hands.

  Silence hung in the air. He heard her breathe in deeply several times. The gentle touch of her hand on his shoulder startled him. “What makes you say that, Collin? Charity loves you more than anything in the world. As far as she’s concerned, there is no ‘better’ than you.”

  He exhaled slowly and leaned back in the swing, rubbing his eye with his thumb. “I cheated on her tonight, Faith.”

  He risked a glance at her and winced as she shrank back with her hand to her mouth. She sat there as if unable to move or speak. He continued on. “I never meant to, but I was drinking. And the pub was filled with pretty women who were drinking. One thing led to another …” His voice trailed off as he massaged his eyes with his hands. “Faith, I’ve done this so many times before, but I’ve never felt like this—sick inside, ashamed. Something’s different. Suddenly I got a conscience, and I don’t know what to do with it. Even though I’ve been committed to Charity for over six months now, and others before her, I’ve always had trouble saying no to a pretty face.”

  The shock in her face jarred him. He looked away. “I’m not proud of it, Faith, but it’s part of who I am. Call it my own sordid quest for love, if you want. Whatever the motivation, it’s never bothered me before. And then your family takes me in, I get engaged to your sister, and everything’s different. For one moment, I step back into the old life of Collin McGuire, and suddenly I feel like a stranger.”

  He turned to her. “Faith, I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t ever want to do it again, so help me God …” He stopped when her eyes widened at his choice of words. He gave her a wary look. “Oh no. You’re not going to tell me you’ve been praying for me, are you?”

  She nodded.

  He dropped against the swing and chuckled quietly. “Well, I’ll be.” He rubbed his jaw with the side of his hand. Leaning forward, he buried his face in his hands again. “While you’re praying, Faith, pray I’ll be a good husband to her, will you? Your family is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’d hate to be a disappointment.”

  “I will, Collin. But you know, you can pray to him yourself. He would like that.”

  He glanced at her sideways. “You would too, wouldn’t you?”

  “It would thrill me to no end.”

  He smiled and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. She shivered. “You cold?” He raised his arm to extend it around her shoulders.

  She shook her head, moving away. “What are you planning to do about Charity? Are you going to tell her?”

  He sank back, exhaling slowly. “I’m not sure. It’s so strange. All of a sudden, I have this horrible urge to be honest.” He glanced at her. “Why, what do you think I should do?”

  “Well, normally I’m a great advocate of honesty, but I think maybe in this case, saying nothing would be best. Did you mean it when you said you never wanted to, you know …”

  “Cheat on her?” He finished her sentence, and she nodded. He smiled. “Yeah, I did. I think I found out tonight that when you’re committed to someone, cheating on them is a lot like getting drunk—it’s easy to do but hu
rts like the devil in the morning.”

  “Then, if you really mean that, let it go. It would only crush her needlessly. And not confessing means there’s only one whose forgiveness you need. Why make it two?”

  “Two? Who else?”

  It was Faith’s turn to look confused. “Why, God’s, of course! Don’t you go to confession?”

  Collin laughed out loud. “What, you think because I was raised Catholic and go to mass with your family every week, it’s a given I go to confession? What makes you think I even need to go? I don’t feel I’ve done anything wrong.”

  “Oh, and you’re proud of what you did tonight, I suppose?”

  “No, I’m not particularly proud of what I did tonight, but I’m not ashamed of being a man, either. I have needs, and I know how to satisfy them. It’s as simple as that. As far as I’m concerned, I’m doing what comes naturally, and I don’t see anything wrong in that. At least, I didn’t until tonight.”

  “Then doesn’t that convince you it’s wrong? Don’t you understand that’s why you have the sick feeling, the regret?”

  “Maybe … but I’d rather not think about it in terms of hellfire and damnation like you do.” His tone was nonchalant, which caused her to bristle. “That’s the biggest problem between you and me, Faith. You see what I did tonight as sin, and you want me to grovel before God to obtain his forgiveness. I see it as simply living my life on my own terms, then wiping the slate clean when I’ve made a mistake.”

  “You mean sinned!” Her eyes blazed, but he only shook his head and laughed. “Don’t you see, Collin, you’re not wiping anything clean. Your ‘slate,’ as you call it, is black with ‘mistakes’—closing your eyes to them doesn’t make them go away. How can you ever know how to do the right thing in life if you can’t even acknowledge the wrong? You want me to pray you’ll be a good husband to my sister. Well, which good husband do you want me to pray for—the one according to Collin McGuire, or the one according to God? You can’t have both.”

  Her words pricked him, and he stiffened.

  “You want to be a good man, Collin, I can feel it. But the thing you don’t realize is you can’t be good without God. We’re all sinners; the Bible says so. And I know firsthand that I am. You may want to be a good husband to my sister, and you may qualify that as one who doesn’t cheat on her. But you’re a human being, Collin, a sinner like the rest of us. One day, you may again do what comes ‘naturally.’ And when you do, your hopes for being a good husband will be dashed—along with your marriage.”