A Passion Redeemed

  Faith butted him out of the way with a smile and barged into the kitchen. She made a beeline for Charity, squeezing her with a happy moan. "Oh, Charity, we missed you something fierce, didn't we, Collin? I am so glad you're back for good."

  Collin flipped Katie over his other shoulder and grinned. "Yeah, even I missed you, kid. Almost as much as Brady."

  Charity felt a dusting of heat in her cheeks. "He is coming, isn't he? Tonight, I mean?"

  Collin dropped Katie into a chair with a thump and hooked an arm around Faith's waist. "You bet. Wild horses-or in Brady's case, tame ponies-couldn't keep him away. He went home to clean up first."

  The doorbell rang. Katie shrieked and Blarney barked. Beth jumped up and knocked over a chair. She jerked it up and ran for the door. "I'll get it."

  Charity put a hand to her chest and grinned at Emma. "I'm afraid this is going to take some getting used to, isn't it, Emma? After living with Grandmother and Mima?"

  Emma nodded and smiled.

  Charity laughed and yanked her up from the table, slinging an arm over her shoulder. "Faith, Collin, this is my dear friend, Emma Malloy. She's going to be staying awhile. Emma, this is my sister, Faith, about whom I have given you many an earful."

  Faith smirked. "I'm sure that's safe to say."

  Collin reached out a hand. "Welcome, Emma. I have great admiration for anybody who can put up with my sister-inlaw."

  Emma shook it with a timid grin. "She is a handful, I'm afraid."

  Charity stuck out her tongue. "The saints be praised for Faith taking you off my hands, Collin McGuire."

  Faith laughed and gave Emma a hug, then leaned to buss her father's cheek before sidling up next to her mother. "The natives are restless, Mother. Can I help you get food on the table?"

  Marcy sighed. "That would be lovely. Patrick, Charity, Katiemake yourselves useful and grab a platter or bowl."

  Charity snatched the tray of turkey from her father's hands and headed for the door, almost toppling it when Beth and Brady pushed through.

  Brady steadied Charity's hands. "Whoa, girl, that's my dinner you're messing with."

  Charity squealed and handed the tray off to her father. She laughed and threw her arms around Brady's neck. "John Morrison Brady, as I live and breathe. Did you come here tonight to see me or get a free dinner?"

  Brady lifted her off her feet in a voracious hug. "No lie shall cross these lips. No comment." He put her back down with a thud.

  Charity laughed and tried to throttle him. He grabbed her wrist with a playful gleam in his eye. "Don't mess with me, woman, I'm hungry."

  "Charity, Brady, if you two don't settle down, I'll make you eat in the kitchen." Marcy pushed past with a steaming bowl of mashed potatoes. "Beth, don't stand there gawking, darling, get that dressing in on the table, please."

  "Yes, ma'am," Beth muttered, her face pink as she jostled past Charity.

  Charity quirked a brow at Brady. Her gaze followed her sister through the door. "She's still smitten, I see," she whispered.

  Brady grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "Puppy love. She'll get over it." He grabbed a basket of rolls. "Although I have been known to have that effect on women."

  Charity swiped the gravy boat from the table and shoved him through the kitchen door. "You mean little girls, don't you, Brady?"

  Patrick stood at the head of the table. "Everyone, take your seats." He looked around. "Where's Steven and Sean?"

  "Sean's running a bit late," Marcy said. "Rough day at the store."

  "And Steven's asleep in the parlor," Katie said with a smirk.

  "Katie, wake him, please."

  "Steeeeeeeeeeeevennnnnn!" Katie's screech could have curdled the gravy.

  Patrick gummed his lips and singed her with a menacing stare. "Thank you, Katie Rose, for that delightful display of table etiquette. Marcy, your daughter needs fine-tuning."

  Marcy bit back a smile. "Yes, dear."

  Charity giggled and snatched a piece of turkey, pitching one in her mouth and sailing the other across the table to Emma's plate.

  Patrick gave her the eye. "Make that two, Marcy." He sighed. "Steeeeeeven!"

  Steven stumbled into the dining room, sofa prints embedded in his cheek. "I'm coming, Father. I'm not deaf ... or at least I wasn't." He plopped down next to Brady and scratched his head, mussing his red hair even more than it already was.

  Patrick stood and closed his eyes, palms pressed to Marcy's lace tablecloth. Candlelight flickered on bowed faces as a hush fell over the table. "Heavenly Father, thank you for your incredible blessings, not only for the bounty of this table, but for the bounty of our lives, evident in this woman beside me and the children we have borne. And for bringing a precious one of our own back home to us, Lord, and a special bonus, too, in Emma. Amen."

  Katie's lips twisted. "You forgot to bless the food, Father. Again."

  Patrick sat down and gouged a piece of turkey with his fork. He gave Katie a caustic gaze that prompted another round of giggles around the table. "And bless this food, Lord, both in the nourishment of our bodies and in the peace of its partaking." He held the tray of turkey for Marcy. "Emma, dig in and start passing to the left or you're likely to go to bed hungry tonight."

  The front door flew open, and Sean blew in, his cheeks ruddy from the night air. "Sorry I'm late. Kelly's was a madhouse." He spotted Brady and Collin and groaned. "If I'd known you two were going to be here, I would have hustled a bit more. There's still food left, I hope?"

  Collin stuffed a roll in his mouth. "Not much."

  Marcy smiled. "We just said grace and I made plenty, Sean. But before you sit your weary bones down, isn't there something you're forgetting?"

  He hurled his coat on the rack by the door and grinned, rounding the table to pluck Charity up out of her chair. He crushed her in a bear hug. "Welcome home, you little brat. I guess Katie's got some competition now."

  "Thanks, Sean. Any interesting things-or people-in your life these days besides Kelly's Hardware?" She pushed haphazard strands of straw-colored hair from his blue eyes.

  He ruffled his hair with his hand and plopped down beside her, reaching for the potatoes. "Nope. No time. Pass the turkey, McGuire, if you can bear to part with it."

  Marcy smiled and handed Sean the rolls. "Charity brought her good friend home to stay. Emma, this is Sean, my oldest."

  Sean stood and extended his hand across the table, his smile as broad as his reach. "Welcome. Anyone who can put up with this sister of mine has to be the genuine article."

  Charity smacked him.

  "Nice to meet you, Sean," Emma said with a blush.

  "So, Charity tells me you and she met at Shaw's and that you've worked there forever." Faith dolloped potatoes on her plate, then handed them off to Collin.

  Emma gave her a crooked smile. "Yes, I was actually Mrs. Shaw's top sales clerk before Charity came on the scene. Dublin's gentry took one look at her and pushed me aside."

  "Oh, pshaw. Don't believe her. It took me a solid six months to catch up." Charity removed a roll from the basket, eyed the lighter one on Brady's plate and switched it with hers. He stared her down, but she ignored him.

  "What happened to your face?" Katie asked.

  "Katie Rose!" Marcy, Faith, and Charity's voices rang in shock.

  Emma smiled. "No, it's a natural question and one I don't mind answering. I got in the way of a pan of hot grease, I'm afraid."

  Katie's eyes bugged. "How did you do that?"

  "Katie, hush," Charity warned.

  "Someone accidentally threw it in my face."

  Forks, knives, and spoons stilled as all eyes focused on Emma.

  Charity cleared her throat and elbowed Sean, who stared as if Emma had just announced she was from the moon. "So, Sean, Mother tells me you finally wrangled a promotion."

  He chewed slowly, his eyes still fixed on Emma. He swallowed and turned to his sister. "Yeah, I did. Don't look now, sis, but you're rubbing shoulders with the assistant manager
of the largest hardware mercantile in south Boston. Not to mention future manager of a new store."

  One of her brows slanted up. "Well, well. Must be those dangerous good looks drawing all the ladies in to buy nuts and bolts."

  He grinned and chomped on a roll. "Must be."

  The conversations steered in various directions as the family ate, their laughter as warm as the soft glow from Marcy's silver candlesticks, dancing high with flame. Charity glanced across the table and winked at Emma, then looked up at Brady who was immersed in an intense discussion with Collin and Patrick. She sighed. How could she have believed this place was not home? Her thoughts wandered to Bridget and Mima, and a bit of melancholy tempered her mood. Oh, Lord, if only they were here.

  When pies had been cut and eaten, and the candles waxed to near gone, Patrick stood from the table and stretched. "Any takers on chess? I need to work off that second piece of pie."

  Marcy rose and began stacking plates. A smile twitched on her lips. You might want to consider a five-mile jog instead, my love. I counted three."

  Patrick chuckled and pushed his chair in. He hooked an arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head. "Or I could just chase you around the house, Marceline, if you prefer."

  "Patrick, stop. We have company."

  He laughed and winked at Emma. "Not company, Marcy, family. Emma will get the lay of the land soon enough, eh? Sean, Collin, Brady-to the parlor. One of you lucky boys is about to learn a valuable lesson in chess."

  Faith jumped up. She wrestled a stack of dirty plates from Marcy's hands. "Oh, no, you're going into that parlor and put your feet up. We can handle the dishes. Go on, get in there and keep Father honest."

  Marcy sighed and gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks, Faith."

  Charity hefted two bowls in her hands, and Faith promptly stole them away. She motioned her head toward Brady, who was laughing as he followed the others from the room. "It's your first night home; no dishes. Why don't you see if Brady wants to take a walk?" She wriggled her brows, giving Charity a telling look.

  Charity laughed and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Faith. I could use a good talk with that man right about now. He makes a wonderful sounding board."

  Faith grinned over her shoulder as she moved toward the door. "Among other things, if you would open your eyes."

  Charity smiled. "They're open, Faith. It's the heart that's still a bit closed."

  Faith stopped at the door, her eyes soft. "I know. It'll get better, I promise. Now go grab him before Father robs him of his pride."

  Charity found him on the sofa, talking politics with Sean. She tapped him on the shoulder. "Good, I see it's Collin who's to be fleeced tonight. I was worried about you."

  "What about me?" Sean asked, his tone wounded.

  "You could use the humility." She propped her hands on her hips. "But I do have a favor to ask. Emma's in there trying to help with dishes, despite Faith's best efforts to shoo her away. Would you mind dragging her out and keeping her company while Brady and I take a walk?"

  Sean smiled and stood, pushing his shirtsleeves up. "With pleasure. She seems like a gentle soul, Charity. I like her."

  "She is, Sean, one of the best. She's been wounded more than any human being I know, but it never seems to touch her or harden her. She's a true gift from God." She clamped a hand on Brady's arm and yanked him up. "And speaking of 'true gifts from God,' get a move on, Brady; you're taking me for a walk."

  "I don't suppose I have a choice?" He lumbered toward the hall to get her sweater.

  Charity snatched it off the rack first. "Nope. I need a shoulder to cry on."

  Sean sailed by. "Better wear a raincoat, Brady."

  Charity stepped outside and clutched her sweater tightly around her, lifting her face to the cool of the night. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out again, grateful for her family and the love they supplied. And the diversion.

  "Where to?" he asked, his voice suddenly soft and low.

  She nodded toward the swing on the porch.

  He cocked a hip. "Not much of a walk."

  She tugged him over. "All of a sudden I'm too tired to walk. Do you mind?"

  Did he mind? Sitting with her in the shadows, the scent of her hair as fresh and inviting as the smell of summer rain? Not likely.

  He sat down beside her, giving her plenty of room. She edged closer and put her head on his shoulder, warming him more than he liked. With a sigh of resignation, he slipped an arm around her and pulled her close. "So how are you? Really?"

  Her sigh was heavy, and he tightened his hold. "Fine, now that I'm home. Or almost fine."

  "Almost?"

  "Yeah. Coming home again has been like balm to my battered soul, Brady. Thanks to you and your prayers, I'm a different person inside."

  He shifted, uncomfortable with her praise. "I just finished the job that Mitch started. He got you thinking about God, pursuing him. I just tied up the loose ends."

  She listed against him a bit more. "I need you to do it again."

  He looked down at her with a sideways glance. "What?"

  She closed her eyes, pain etched in her features. "Tie up the loose ends that Mitch left unraveled. He wounded me, Brady, to the core. Not that I didn't deserve it. I did. But he plucked my heart out and stomped on it for good measure." She grunted a hollow laugh. "Then Rigan finished me off."

  His muscles tensed. "Charity, Collin told me. God help me, if I could, I would kill him."

  She looked up, her eyes wet in the moonlight. "That's the miracle in all of this, Brady. God did help me. He opened my eyes to the sin in my heart like nothing has ever been able to do. Rigan stole my virtue on a kitchen table in Shaw's back room, but God gave me his in its place. In the midst of Rigan's sin, I saw my own as clearly as the depravity in his eyes. When he left that night, for the first time in my life, I repented. Really and truly repented. Not only for all the lies and deceptions, but for all the people I've hurt. You once told me that people are attached to our obedience. You were right. And because of my lifelong rebellion against God, I have hurt the people I love most in life, as surely as Rigan hurt me. I love Mitch with all of my heart, but I didn't act like it. I lied, I deceived, and I seduced him until he had no choice but to turn me away. In the process, I discovered that sin is a cold blade that slices to the heart, wounding all in its grasp. But my God has delivered me."

  Her voice cracked on a sob and Brady pulled her into his embrace, resting his cheek against her hair. "Charity O'Connor, angels are leaping before the throne of God over you." Like my heart. He closed his eyes, drinking in the heady scent of her.

  She sniffed and he handed her his handkerchief. She wiped her nose and leaned back against his arm, her face somber. "But the wages of sin is death, Brady, and I now have a terrifying knowledge of exactly what that means."

  He stiffened. "Why do you say that?"

  She closed her eyes. "Because when Rigan ... did what he did ... something inside of me died. Trust and confidence, replaced by fear and loathing. Loathing of who I am, what I did."

  "We're all sinners, Charity."

  She shook her head vehemently, dispelling the pool of tears in her eyes till they streamed down her face. "No, Brady, don't soften what I did. What Rigan did was wrong, but I had a hand in it. From the moment I met him, I used him and led him on for my own purposes with no regard for him or his feelings. He was in love with me and I knew it, and I played it for all it was worth." She pressed a shaky hand to her mouth. "I struck a deal with him as surely as I did with the devil himself. I sold my body and my soul, just like Mitch said."

  Brady's heart pounded in his chest. "You mean ... you slept with Rigan before the rape?"

  "No, nothing like that, but I gave him my lips freely, whenever and wherever, letting him believe he could have more down the road. I used him to make Mitch jealous, never caring that every kiss stoked the fire inside of him. I led him on, Brady, tempting him with my body. Until he finally took it ..."
She turned her face away, her throat working in the moonlight. "And my womanhood along with it."

  Brady touched her cheek with his finger, softly turning her to face him. "I don't understand. What are you saying, Charity?"

  She shivered and looked away, refusing to meet his gaze. "I'm saying I have no desire to ... be with a man, to be pretty for one or let one touch me. I just feel afraid ... inside."

  He held her face in his hand and gently stroked her chin with his thumb. His voice was tender. "I'm touching you, Charity. Does this make you afraid?"

  She looked up, her eyes wide and wet. "Oh, no, Brady. You're my friend. I trust you."

  He smiled. "It will be the same with the man you fall in love with."

  She shuddered. "Do you really think so?"

  "With God's help, I do. You just have to heal and learn to trust again."

  She pressed her cheek to his chest, clutching him with shaky fingers. "But the old Charity, the tease and the temptress, is gone, Brady. I have no desire to fix my face or my hair or dress up and be pretty. I feel so ... dead inside. So worthless. God opened my eyes and gave me his forgiveness, but as a woman, I feel so lost, so imperfect."

  Brady held her tightly, resting his head on top of hers. "We don't have to be perfect, Charity, because God is. In time, he'll heal the woman in you as surely as he healed your soul."

  She shuddered and wept against his chest, every quiver of her body wrenching his. After a few moments, she pulled away to blow her nose with his handkerchief, then gave him a shaky smile.

  He cupped her chin with the palm of his hand. "I'll say it again, Charity O'Connor, the heavens are rejoicing over you. You bring a smile to God's face ... and mine."

  She blew her nose again and laughed at the same time. "I'm sure both you and God thought nothing would ever get through this thick head of mine." She sighed. "And speaking of thick heads ..."