Authors: Julie Lessman
From the moment Rory had put the ring on her finger, it seemed her happily-ever-after had quickly dissolved into a murky nightmare of physical and emotional abuse, finally ending when he moved in with another woman. The pain of her sham marriage had convinced Emma once and for all that for some women—at least women like her—marriage was
not
a good thing. She sighed as Luke dipped his bride back to smother her throat with kisses. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Katie happier or more beautiful. The perfect bride, I’d say.”
A throaty chuckle quivered the chiffon bodice of Charity’s bridesmaid gown. She pulled back to give Emma a mischievous smile. “You mean the perfect distraction when Luke discovers ‘our Katie’ is anything but the ‘perfect’ wife.”
Emma’s fingers playfully nipped at Charity’s waist. “Stop that, Mrs. Dennehy. Katie and Luke were made for each other, and everyone knows it.”
Charity sighed and studied the happy couple. “I suppose. I guess it’s the ‘iron sharpening iron’ Scripture in play. Luke agreed Katie can continue to work with him three days a week at the BCAS while Lizzie watches Kit, but everybody knows he’s bent on having a family, so I suspect Katie’s tenure will be short-lived. Five to ten says sparks will fly when he tries to lower the boom after the honeymoon.”
“Lower the boom?” Emma repeated with a lift of her brows. Her eyes flicked to Luke as he tugged his fifteen-month-old daughter “Kitty Kat” out of the arms of Katie’s sister, Lizzie, with a tickle of Kitty’s ribs. Husky baby giggles echoed in the room as he planted a kiss on her tummy.
“Yeah, you know, like Mitch did with me over ten years ago? We get married, he buys the store for you and me to manage, and then,
boom!
I get pregnant with the twins, and my working days are over. And in the blink of an eye, you’re saddled with a store to manage all by yourself while I’m locked in an ivory tower like Rapunzel with a shoulder-length bob.” Charity shot an affectionate scowl at her husband who was deep in a conversation with her brothers, Sean and Steven, then returned her knowing gaze to the newlyweds. “Trust me, Mrs. Malloy, as much as those two like to have their own way, this will be a marriage where sparks will fly.”
Emma bumped Charity’s shoulder with a teasing grin. “Yes,
Rapunzel
, but apparently it’s worked for you and Mitch. Besides, I thought ‘sparks’ were a good thing.”
Charity’s grin bordered on wicked. “Oh, they are, my friend—that is, if you learn how to channel the heat. And trust me, with those two, there will be
plenty
of heat. Let’s face it—you don’t just marry an Irishman, you marry a stubborn streak and an Irish temper.”
“Not all Irishmen are like that,” Emma defended, brow puckering at the mere mention of “temper.” Despite the heat of the room, a chill iced her spine at the memory of Rory’s “Irish temper” before she’d left him in Dublin over ten years ago.
Deliver me from men with tempers . . .
Charity’s eyes narrowed. “Name one.”
With a heft of her chin, Emma rose to the challenge. “Well, your brother, Sean, for one. He doesn’t have a lick of a temper and he’s the sweetest, most easygoing man I’ve ever met.”
Charity’s gaze honed in on her unmarried brother across the room who stood, arms folded and hip cocked to the wall, chatting with his brothers-in-law.
Emma’s gaze followed and then paused.
Odd . . .
Sean’s trademark smile was absent and his manner unusually stiff, a stark contrast to the others, who were laughing over something Mitch was saying. Emma frowned.
“Oh, I’ll go along with that, but remember he’s Irish, Emma, so what Sean doesn’t have in temper, he makes up for in stubbornness.” She leaned in, as if Sean were close enough to hear. “And although no one ever sees it, trust me—there’s a temper lurking inside of that easygoing brother of mine. I only saw it once, mind you, when he was thirteen, but suffice it to say that it was that very ‘temper’ that effectively bashed in Herman Finkel’s head.”
“What?” Emma turned, her eyes wide. “What on earth happened?”
Charity pursed her lips as she studied her brother. “Well, Sean was walking me home from school one day when we passed the park where Herman was heckling Becky Landers.” Charity rolled her eyes. “God give me the grace to understand why little boys feel the need to torment the little girls they like . . .” Pausing, she shot a narrow gaze at her husband. “Big boys too, come to think of it.” She shook her head as if to dispel the thought. “Well, anyway, I had this sneaky feeling that Sean had a secret crush on Becky because as we all know, men are
so
obvious, when all of a sudden Herman tosses a snowball her way. Saints preserve us, Sean leveled the poor kid like a runaway train, knocking him flat. I’m telling you, Emma, before Sean was through, poor Herman had a split lip, black eyes, and a chipped tooth.”
“No!” Emma’s mouth slacked open.
“Yes,” Charity said, conspiracy thick in her tone. “Our gentle, nonconfrontational Sean O’Connor—the man who wouldn’t hurt a fly—suddenly pummeling poor Herman like Jack Dempsey on a bad day. That night, Mr. Finkel threatened Father with the police.” A secret smile formed on Charity’s lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Father so angry. Not sure what he said or did to Sean other than confiscate profits from his paper route for a solid year, but whatever it was, I never saw Sean lose his temper again.” A twinkle lit in Charity’s eyes as she gave Emma a smug look. “But as we all know, ‘still waters run deep.’ So for all his squalling about being a confirmed bachelor until the day he dies, when my brother says he has no interest in women, Herman Finkel is living proof that Sean is lying through his teeth.”
Emma bit back a grin. “Poor Sean—desperate to remain a bachelor and he has you as a sister—the Queen of Romance.”
Charity slid Emma a narrow gaze. “It’s for his own good, Emma, and you know it. Look at the man—he’s at his own sister’s wedding, for pity’s sake, and he looks like his tie is too tight. Somebody has to put him out of his misery, because I won’t rest until I see both of my brothers happily wed.”
“He does look pretty miserable,” Emma said with a chew of her lip.
“Of course he’s miserable—he hates weddings even more than being home sick with the flu. Which validates his stubbornness and neatly lumps him right in with every other Irish man.”
Emma shook her head. “I don’t know—I’ve known Sean for eleven years now, and I’ve never seen it. He’s the peacemaker, the buffer, the Rock of Gibraltar everyone relies on. Seems like he always accommodates others just to keep everyone happy.”
A low chuckle escaped Charity’s lips. “Oh, he’s a rock all right, right along with the rest of them, starting with Father and Mitch and right on down to Katie’s new husband. Trust me, Mount Rushmore has nothing on these guys, which,” Charity said with a nod in Katie and Luke’s direction, “brings me right back to the inevitable sparks between Katie and Luke. I mean, really, how appropriate is it for them to get married on the Fourth of July?”
“Mmm,” Emma said, studying the happy couple with a tilt of her head. “Practically perfect except for missing the fireworks display at Revere Beach. I know how much Katie loves fireworks, so it’s a shame she’ll miss them this year.”
Folding her arms, Charity nudged her elbow against Emma’s while mischief glinted in her blue eyes. “Well, judging from the way Luke’s been looking at her all day, I’d say Katie will have all the fireworks she can handle.”
“Sean!” The room stilled at the booming sound of the groom’s voice, edged with laughter. All eyes turned to the men by the wall, including Emma’s, who followed the lightning thrust of Luke McGee’s hand while her smile remained buried in Katie’s bouquet.
Lost in conversation, Sean glanced up in surprise. Ever the athlete, he instinctively reached to catch whatever Luke was tossing his way. Whistles and cheers rose as he blinked at the pretty, lacy garter clutched in his upraised fist. Split-second realization forced color into his cheeks. And then, with a skewed smile and an innocent slant of heavy blond brows, the garter slipped through his fingers to the floor. “Whoops . . .”
Charity’s husband, Mitch, retrieved the unwanted garter with a deft swipe of his hand and bobbled it with a grin. He shoved it into Sean’s breast pocket next to the white silk handkerchief and rose boutonniere. “Sorry, old boy, but this one belongs to you, and everybody here knows it. And I don’t mind saying, we all think it’s long,
long
overdue.”
Sean plucked the garter from his pocket and slipped it on his arm, all embarrassment apparently forgotten as he grinned at his brothers-in-law. “I do believe I detect a bit of jealousy from the ranks of the married. Well, unlike you poor slobs, it will take more than trickery from Luke McGee and a bit of lace to get me to the altar.”
“Yeah, like four sisters and a mother on a round-the-clock novena,” Mitch said with a chuckle, slapping him on the back. “Face it, Sean—your bachelor days are numbered.”
Shouts and laughter erupted as Luke ushered Katie toward the door with a suitcase in his hand. Katie’s sister, Lizzie, followed behind, eyes moist as she snuggled a sleepy Kit.
“Now you give me a call when you get to New York, Katie, you hear?” Marcy O’Connor squeezed her daughter in a tearful hug. “So I know you’re okay?”
Patrick O’Connor shook Luke’s hand and shot his wife an off-center smile. “For pity’s sake, Marcy, Katie Rose is a married woman now, not a youngster underfoot who has to check in. Leave the newlyweds be.” He swooped Katie up in a ferocious hug and winked at his new son-in-law. “Besides, she’s Luke’s problem now, not ours.”
“Father!” Mock indignation laced Katie’s tone as she gave her father a playful smack.
“It’s all under control, Mr. O’Connor,” Luke said with an easy grin. He pressed a firm hand against the small of Katie’s back, totally ignoring the sudden lift of her brow. “And we will call tonight, Mrs. O’Connor, rest assured. Thank you all for everything.”
“Do we get calls too?” Charity asked with a dance of her brows.
Katie laughed and deposited a gentle kiss on Kit’s cheek, now sound asleep against Lizzie’s shoulder. “Nope, only Lizzie so we can check in on Kit.” She dispensed hugs to all three of her sisters and Emma. “You and Faith will have to wait till I get back because we’ll be
very
busy. Luke has a full agenda planned, lots of things he wants me to see and do in his old hometown.”
“Uh-huh . . . I’m quite sure he does,” Charity said with a tease in her tone.
“Charity!” Emma’s cheeks tinged pink, along with Faith, Lizzie, and Katie’s, who sneaked a quick glance at Luke while he conversed with her parents.
Faith tweaked the back of Charity’s neck. “Ignore her, Katie, we all know she’s got a one-track mind. Just make sure Luke takes you to the Empire State Building, you hear? It opened a couple of months ago, and it’s supposed to be fabulous.”
“Oh, yes,” Emma breathed, “you’ll have to tell us all about it. It’s the tallest building in the world and even has an observatory on the eighty-sixth floor with incredible views of the city.” She sighed and gave Katie a tight hug. “Why, that high up, your head’s sure to be in the clouds.”
A grin tugged at Katie’s lips. “It already is, Emma.” Her eyes grew misty as she touched a gentle hand to Emma’s cheek and then to her sisters’. “I love you all so much, and I can’t thank you enough for your prayers and support. What does one do without sisters, I wonder?”
Emma smiled and squeezed Katie’s hand. “One prays for friends who are just as dear.”
“Taxi’s waiting, you two,” Steven said with a grin, bobbling his father’s car keys in hand.
“Ready, Katie?” Luke cupped a secure hand to Katie’s waist.
“Hey, McGee . . .” Sean and his brothers-in-law forged forward to give Katie a hug before slapping Luke on the back. Sean flicked the garter on his arm with a chuckle. “Trust me—you’ll pay for this dearly in our next game on the court.”
Luke delivered a cocky smile on the way to the door. “Lookin’ forward to it, Sean. Now that we’re related, I won’t have to take it so easy on you.”
Emma smiled when Charity and her entire family shadowed Katie and Luke out the door. A gentle sigh floated from her lips.
Family.
I wonder if they know how truly blessed they are?
“Sweet tea in Georgia, a solid week without Mr. Priss in the office—imagine that!” Bobbie Sue Dulay, one of Luke’s employees from the Boston Children’s Aid Society sauntered over to Emma with a purse under her arm. “Talk about a week off with pay.”
Emma grinned up at the older silver-haired woman who far exceeded Emma in girth, height, and humor. “Yes, Katie tells me he can be pretty particular about things in the office.”
“Humph. That’s the toad callin’ the frog homely for sure. If I didn’t know better, I suspec’ those two of being twins separated at birth.” Bobbie Sue shook her head as she watched the newlyweds duck out the door. “Yep, a marriage made in heaven for shore, if you’re in mind for a little spice in your life.”
A marriage made in heaven.
Against her will, the smile stiffened on Emma’s face. She worked hard to appear attentive while Bobbie Sue prattled on, but somehow her thoughts wandered to Rory. Heaven had had nothing to do with what she and Rory had shared, and for the first time in a long while, a hint of melancholy stole into her mood. Luke and Katie had it all—a marriage made in heaven, a family to love, and the blessings of God—and at the thought, a rare malaise settled on Emma Malloy. Like Katie and Luke, Emma had spoken vows too, and given an oath. She swallowed hard as she absently nodded at something Bobbie Sue said. Yet, love like that would never be hers, she realized, and although she had accepted that long, long ago, that didn’t stop the sting of tears that suddenly pricked in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” A crease popped in Bobbie Sue’s brow as she bent to study Emma’s face, freckles all bunched in a frown. “Why, honey, you’re bubbling like you’re fixing to cry.”
Emma blinked, then drew in a deep breath and forced a smile. “Come on, Bobbie Sue, let’s get some wedding cake, shall we? And don’t mind me,” she said with a quick swipe at her eyes. She linked arms with the woman, then squared her shoulders as they strolled to the other side of the room. “I’m notorious for crying over weddings.” Her smile was unnaturally bright as she ignored the stab in her heart.