A Love Surrendered (35 page)

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Authors: Julie Lessman

Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #FIC027050, #Sisters—Fiction, #Nineteen thirties—Fiction, #Boston (Mass.)—Fiction

BOOK: A Love Surrendered
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“Then Annie’s the perfect girl, because it doesn’t sound like she’ll let you.”

Steven grunted. “Maybe not now,” he said with a harsh laugh. “But trust me, when I fall for a girl and she falls for me? I have this uncanny ability to push until we both regret it.”

“Then don’t.”

The corner of his lip cocked up. “Easier said than done. When I was crazy in love with Maggie, it was just second nature to express it.” He studied Sean out of the corner of his eye. “Did you and Emma struggle with that? You know, before you two got married?”

Sean’s chest rose and fell as he peered out the windshield, a faint smile on his lips. “Surprisingly no, but only because I loved her so much, I never wanted to hurt her that way.”

His brother’s words stung. “I loved Maggie too,” Steven said too sharply, “but I still couldn’t keep my hands off of her, and she couldn’t keep hers off me.”

Sean slipped him a sympathetic smile. “I know, it’s near impossible when God’s not a part of the equation, as I discovered before Emma.” He exhaled. “But with Emma, doing things God’s way was so important to her, that it became important to me too. Even so, I never could have done it without God’s help, because as you discovered with Maggie, when you love someone, you crave that closeness. A closeness God fully intends between a man and wife, not a couple who are dating or even engaged. And with good reason.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?” Steven asked, more than a little cynicism creeping in. The tendons in his jaw automatically
tightened at the mention of God. Faith in God might be a big part of his brother’s life now, but to Steven—and Sean, not so very long ago—God was little more than an hour in a pew once a week and an occasional pass through the confessional, no matter how much his family depended on him.

Sean sized him up through pensive eyes, as if contemplating whether Steven would receive what he had to say. “Because God wants us to have the best marriage and relationship possible, and he knows that can’t happen without him. He built it into the process, Steven, when he created us—blessing based on obedience, kind of like a spiritual gravity.” Flipping the basketball into the air, he caught it again with a practiced palm. “You throw a ball in the air, and it falls back down.” He tossed the ball back on the seat, eyes locked with his brother’s. “It’s the same with God’s precepts—apply them, and blessings fall on everything in your life. And when you apply them in a relationship with a woman you care about?” His gaze was steady and firm. “Not only does it deepen and enrich your relationship with God, but with the woman you love. Suddenly everything in the relationship is stronger—the emotional bond you share, the trust you have with each other, and your own self-respect. Not to mention a peace and joy you never dreamed possible.”

“I don’t know, Sean,” Steven said slowly, “sounds too good to be true.” He snatched the ball and rotated it with his thumbs, eyes fixed on the movement.

Sean scratched his sandpaper jaw. “Yeah, I know, and trust me, I wouldn’t have believed it either if I hadn’t experienced it for myself. But I’m telling you, Steven, it’s the only way to fly.” He cuffed his brother’s shoulder. “So if you really care about Annie like you say, why on earth would you risk cutting her off from God’s blessings to gratify your own desires?”

Steven stared, the truth of his brother’s statement hitting him square in the chest. “I guess I wouldn’t,” he whispered, slowly lowering the ball to his lap. He sighed and handed it over to his brother, his voice quiet. “I’m just not sure I have the same control you had with Emma.”

Sean bobbled the ball in his hand. “You can . . . but only with God’s help.”

“Yeah, well, that might be a problem.” Steven rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t get me wrong—I believe in God, but I don’t have a whole lot of trust in him, at least not like you.”

Sean grunted. “Yeah, well, neither did I . . . before Emma. And nobody knows that better than you.” Opening the car door, he got out and closed it once again. He leaned in then, ball under his arm and palms on the windowsill, an intensity in his eyes belying the calm of his face. “You know, Steven, you’ve always been the kind of kid searching out answers wherever you could—first with science and magic as a boy, then with girls and booze in college. Even as a federal agent, you drive yourself harder than anybody I know, but it’s never enough. Whether in school, with Maggie, or even in your job, you’ve always been restless—a man on the hunt for some elusive happiness you’ve never been able to find.” The semblance of a smile shaded his lips. “This is it, Steven, this is what you’ve been looking for all of your life—a faith in God that will bring you true joy. Don’t be stupid like me and let ten years go by without it, because the truth is . . . you
can
trust him.” He stood up straight and tapped his palm twice on the roof. “G’night, kid—thanks for the lift.”

Steven watched his brother’s shadow disappear into the house, and although Sean’s words brought him a sense of peace, he still felt that restlessness stirring inside. It just seemed all too easy, too pat, especially for someone who didn’t really deserve the kind of peace his brother mentioned. Turning the ignition, he shifted into gear and eased down the road, not sure if he was ready to invoke the help of some invisible deity he’d defied more than once.

You can trust him
, Sean had said, something Steven might actually consider at some point in time. His lips slanted as he headed for home.

Because God knows he couldn’t trust himself.

13

A
nnie? It’s always great to see you, of course, but . . . why aren’t you in school?”

Annie gave Faith a weak smile, a stack of textbooks in her arms. “My last class was cancelled, so I took a chance you might be home.” She drew in a deep breath and released it again with a quivering sigh, gaze flicking from the wash basket on Faith’s hip to the quiet house beyond. “But if you’re busy, I can come another time.”

“Don’t be silly.” Shifting the basket, Faith tugged Annie into the house with her free hand. “This is perfect timing because I don’t have to pick the girls up from school for another two hours, so I have plenty of time for girl talk and tea.” She wiggled her brows. “And I have cookies . . . ,” she said in a singsong voice that brought a smile to Annie’s face.

She closed the door and ushered Annie down a hall emblazoned with pictures of Collin and the girls. Annie stopped midway, heart swooping at an old family photo of the O’Connors when Steven was small. He looked so sweet and serious, probably no more than eight at the time, hands shoved deep in his pockets like he was often prone to do. The walls of her throat thickened as she studied him, tracing a finger
from the rumpled dark hair that fell into shy eyes, down the plaid suit that couldn’t hide a little boy’s spindly frame.

“He was always such a sweet kid,” Faith said over her shoulder, affection softening her tone. “I swear, the patience of Job in dealing with Katie, and never a lick of trouble . . . or at least not till college.”

Annie’s smile faded. “You mean till Maggie,” she said quietly, grateful she’d finally confided in Faith that Maggie was her sister.

Faith braced Annie’s shoulder and led her to the kitchen at the back of the house where the heavenly smell of snickerdoodles wafted in the air. “It takes two, Annie,” she said, steering her into a spindled oak chair at a well-worn kitchen table. She set the laundry basket down and filled a kettle for tea. “Maggie wasn’t the first girl Steven got involved with, you know, only the one he dated the longest, so he was no angel when they met, trust me. The trouble started when he and Joe fell in with a fast crowd the summer before college, and everything changed after that. But I will admit, he and Maggie were not very good for each other.”

The sound of Faith’s words caused Annie to slump in the chair. “Well, that’s actually one of the things I wanted to talk about, Faith.” She sucked in a calming breath. “I’m not sure Steven and I are good for each other either.”

Faith turned at the pantry where she was rifling through a selection of tea. “What do you mean?” she asked with a frown. “You’re perfect for my brother, Annie—we all think so.”

“Maybe not,” she whispered, cheeks warming from something other than the heat of the oven. “Your brother’s wearing me down, and I’m not sure how strong I can continue to be.”

With a blink of green eyes, Faith tossed the box of tea bags onto the counter and immediately pulled out a chair, leaning forward to place a hand on Annie’s arm. “But you said he stopped pushing after your ultimatum—that if he ever got fresh again, it was over.”

“Yes . . . ,” Annie said slowly, “and he’s been wonderful ever since—nothing more than a chaste kiss at the door.” She sat up with a shaky sigh, picking at her nails. “Until Saturday night, that is. All during the picture show he played with my hair, not even aware of what he was doing. Fondling my earlobe, grazing my palm with his thumb . . .” She shuddered. “I swear, Faith, I was ready to crawl out of my skin.”

Faith sat up with fire in her eyes. “For pity’s sake, why didn’t you slap his hand away?”

She swallowed hard, peeking up with a nervous chew of her lip. “Because I liked it, that’s the problem. It was so innocent and casual when he began, I never even thought anything about it till my body started to tingle, and then it was too late because by that time, I . . . ,” a shallow breath quivered from her lips, “
wanted
him to do it.” She hesitated, avoiding Faith’s eyes. “Which is why we kissed in the car for a while before he walked me to the door . . .”

Faith slammed a palm on the table, causing Annie to jump. “See? This is exactly what I’ve been talking about. When men are courting women, they seem to have a one-track mind.”

“No,” Annie said quickly, rising to Steven’s defense. “I don’t think Steven was even aware how he was affecting me. It’s me I’m ashamed of, Faith, for responding like I did.”

Faith folded her arms, gaze thinning along with her smile. “Oh, sure, and when Collin and I were engaged, the poor man had no earthly idea kissing my neck would weaken me at the knees, either.” She grabbed Annie’s shoulders and gave her a little shake, green sparks all but flying from her eyes. “Poppycock! This is exactly why you have to keep my brother in line, Annie. He’s older than you and has a lot of experience with women. Trust me on this—Steven knows
exactly
what he’s doing, just like Collin.” Annie’s head bobbled back and forth as Faith gave her another shake before she sagged back in her chair with a huff. She slapped her arm on the table, fingers drumming. “Oh, I wish Steven were here right now, so I could shake the little brat silly for turning into such a . . .
a . . . ,” she flailed a hand in the air, a storm brewing in her eyes, “man,” she finished with a clipped tongue.

Annie blinked and then giggled. “Goodness, I’ve never seen you so . . . volatile.”

The hard line of Faith’s mouth edged up while she peered at Annie through a sliver of eyes. “That’s because nothing lights my fuse like this, Annie—men who say they care about you, then disrespect your wishes. Sweet saints, it’s hard enough to stay pure until marriage without a man who supposedly loves you making it twice as difficult to say no.”

Annie sighed. “I wish Steven loved me,” she said sadly, “but I don’t think he does.”

“I was talking about Collin,” Faith snapped, eyes squinted in a hard stare as if recalling her past. “The man was so good when we were engaged, and then—BOOM! The month before we married, had to fight him off with a crowbar.” She looked up, gaze shrewd. “I don’t know if Steven loves you, Annie, but I do know this—he cares about you more than he’s cared about any girl in a long time. So you have to stand your ground if you want God to honor you with the kind of relationship you want with my brother.” She leaned in, jaw firm. “Before marriage is the only time a woman has control, so she has to use it wisely. After she’s married, God calls her to submit to her husband, so you may as well take advantage of keeping Steven in line now. Which means,” she said with a hike of her brow, “a good night kiss is fine, but when the flutters and tingles escalate, nip it in the bud, ’cause if you give ’em an inch, they’ll take a mile, understood?”

Moisture smarted in Annie’s eyes. “Yes, I understand, but I have to tell you—this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’m so in love with Steven, just one look makes me weak all over, and so help me, Faith, when he tells me he cares about me, I literally melt in his arms.”

Faith released a quiet sigh, eyes tender. “I know, Annie, I remember loving Collin so much I wanted to give myself to him, body and soul. One night he stirred me up more
than usual, and I argued with God in my head that we’d be married in mere days, so what could it hurt? But the truth is, real love denies self to give those we love God’s best. So I said no to Collin and yes to God, and I truly believe that’s why our marriage is so wonderful today. Because the Bible is clear—God honors those who honor him.”

“But what if . . . ,” Annie swallowed hard, “I say no, but Steven persists?”

Faith stared at her for several seconds before she answered, her gaze soft. “Then you tell him it’s over, just like you warned him in the beginning.”

“But . . . what if he leaves forever?” She blinked, heart stalled in her chest.

“He won’t,” Faith whispered, rising to the whistle of the teakettle, “but if he does, then he’s not the right man for you, and God has spared you further heartbreak.”

Annie stared hard at the floor, her breathing uneven before she lifted her eyes to Faith’s. “All right,” she whispered, “but I’ll need lots of prayer.” She hesitated. “And, Faith?”

“Yes?” Faith turned at the counter, where she was pouring their hot water for tea.

“Steven needs prayer too,” Annie said quietly. “Not just about us, mind you.” She drew in a shallow breath, eyes locked with Faith’s. “His faith in God—I don’t think it’s very strong.”

Faith’s chest wavered with a heavy exhale as she carried steaming cups of tea to the table. “Yes, Annie, I know. Oh, Steven believes in God and he goes to mass every Sunday, but I’m afraid he’s a lot like my brother Sean used to be.”

“How’s that?” Annie said, taking a cookie when Faith offered the plate.

Setting the plate on the table, Faith sat to steep her tea. “Good men who believe in God, certainly, and that he sent his Son to save them, but no real passion for it. A sort of long-distance relationship comprised of church once a week and grace at dinner. But . . . ,” she reached for a cookie, “the good
news is, all that can change if a man really loves a woman, which is what happened with Sean. Emma’s faith ignited his, and to be honest, Annie, that’s what I’ve been praying for with you and Steven. You have the kind of faith to set Steven’s on fire, but it’s going to require adherence to God’s precepts to do it, which is another reason you have to be strong.”

A wispy sigh parted from Annie’s lips. “I know. I’ve tried a number of times to talk about my faith with Steven, but he always changes the subject.” She glanced up, trepidation in her eyes. “So I know it will be my actions that speak rather than my words.”

Faith smiled. “Ah yes, the immortal words of St. Francis of Assisi—‘preach the gospel at all times and when necessary, use words.’ ” Her eyes twinkled as she took a sip of her tea.

Annie tilted her head. “I never heard that before, but it’s so true.”

“Yes, it is.” Faith set her cup down to take Annie’s hand, chin firm. “Which means when it comes to Steven, you’ll have my daily vigil of prayers, beginning right now.”

Annie nodded, her heart lighter at the thought . . . but not completely. “Faith?”

“Mmm?”

“Can we pray about something else too? About Maggie?”

“Absolutely,” Faith said with a squeeze of her hands. “What about Maggie?”

Annie hesitated, the words difficult to say. “I . . . haven’t told her yet.”

It was Faith’s turn to pause. “That you’ve been seeing Steven?”

She gave a wooden nod. “I wrote her I was dating, but was afraid to tell her who.”

A reedy breath seeped through Faith’s lips. “I see. Because you feel guilty . . . or because you’re afraid she’ll be angry?”

“A little of both, I suppose.” Annie pulled her hands from Faith’s to buff her arms, goose bumps popping from a sudden chill. “I never thought for a moment anything would ever
happen between Steven and me, but now that it has, I worry Maggie’ll be hurt.”

“But that was three years ago, Annie, and your sister’s in love with somebody else now, engaged to be married. If she does harbor any hurt, I’m sure she’ll get over it quickly, especially if we pray about it.” Faith’s smile was gentle. “But you do need to tell her soon, okay?”

Annie nodded.

Faith extended her hands. “But right now, we have bigger fish to fry, young lady.”

“We do, don’t we?” Annie placed her hands into Faith’s with a sheepish smile.

“Yes, ma’am, we do. Because if you’re going to land my brother in the proverbial boat,” Faith hiked a brow, a “Charity” smile sprouting on her lips, “we’ll have to set the hook hard.” She winked. “Right after he swallows the bait whole.”

Marcy glanced at the clock on her nightstand with a nervous eye, wondering what in the world was taking Steven so long to lose at chess with his father. “Sweet saints, Steven,” she muttered under her breath, “just push a pawn or sacrifice a queen or even touch the wrong piece, but for sanity’s sake, let your father win!” Her hands shook as she slapped at a page in the magazine she wasn’t reading, her stomach in knots as she waited for Patrick to come to bed.

Calm down, Marceline, or he’ll sense something is up.

Resting her head on the headboard, she closed her eyes to heed the silent warning, forcing a calm she didn’t feel. She and Patrick communicated about everything—everything
except
the thing nearest and dearest to Marcy’s heart, adopting Gabe. Since Patrick’s heart incident four months ago, Marcy had laid low, avoiding the subject of Gabe as deftly as her husband. But with another paperwork deadline tomorrow, she no longer had the luxury of waiting. And as much as she
despised manipulation, her guilt couldn’t keep pace with her longing to call Gabe one of their own. Tonight she needed to sway Patrick as never before, and if that meant softening him up with good news, good food, and calculated affection . . . well, so be it.

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