A Love Surrendered (9 page)

Marcy could only stare while tears coursed her cheeks, her skin and her blood ice cold.

“Not only that, but the social worker said Gabe was nothing but skin and bones and bruises when the police found her, which could be why her growth is so stunted today.”

Marcy’s eyes twitched closed and with a broken sob, she
put her head in her hands, her body quivering with heaves. Katie squeezed her in a tight hug while Faith and Lizzie hovered, stroking Marcy’s head and shoulders with a daughter’s loving touch. Grief swelled in her chest until it spilled from her eyes. If she’d had any guilt before for using her wiles in coaxing Patrick to consider adoption, it was all gone now, forever obliterated by abuse so heinous, Marcy had no choice but to forge ahead with her plan to adopt Gabe. To make a difference in the girl’s life, to receive her into a family who could heal her wounds like God had called them to do . . .

And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me . . .

“Mother, we need to pray.” Faith glanced at the clock on the wall. “I think I hear the collective growl of stomachs outside,” she whispered, her tone edged with the faintest glimmer of humor in an obvious attempt to help lighten the mood.

Katie squeezed her mother’s hand with a sniff. “While we’re at it, Luke and I could use some prayer too.” She slid them a shaky smile, apparently following Faith’s example to steer the conversation away from the abuse inflicted on Gabe.

“You?” Charity grinned, the shimmer of wetness in her own eyes belying the smile on her face. “Oh no, what have you done to that poor boy now, Katie Rose?”

True to her name, a hint of rose crept into Katie’s cheeks. “Trust me, something the ‘boy’ is not going to like one iota.” She peeked up, brows tented. “Jack offered to tutor me, and I . . . accepted.”

“
Jack?
” Faith slid back into her seat, eyes wide. “As in your old fiancé Jack? Why on earth would you do that, Katie? Are you crazy?”

Marcy blinked and swiped at her face with the Kleenex. “Oh, Katie, no . . .”

Katie’s chin jutted high, her pride obviously engaged. “Well, I can’t ask Luke because he’s always bogged down at the BCAS, especially now with an upcoming board meeting, so what am I supposed to do? Jack’s a whiz at Harvard Law
and I need help. So when I ran into him at the Harvard Library and he offered to tutor me, well, it was like an answer to prayer. I’m miserable at contract law and can’t afford to fail, so what could I say?”

Charity gaped. “Uh,
no
, maybe? Instead you let your former fiancé—whom your husband despises, I might add—tutor you?” Charity stared at her sister as if she had just spit in
her
lemonade. “Saints almighty, even I wouldn’t do something that stupid.”

Emma bit her lip and gave her best friend an affectionate pat. “Oh, sure you would.”

Charity’s eyes narrowed before her lips curled into a one-sided smile. “Okay, maybe I would, but that doesn’t change the fact that Luke will be furious.”

Faith cast a nervous glance at the clock on the wall. “Which is why we need to pray about this pronto, Katie, along with Gabe’s situation and Mother talking adoption with Father.” She extended her hands, sobriety in her gaze despite the hint of a smile on her lips. “Before the plague of locusts descends from outside, demanding potpie.”

“I agree.” The knots in Marcy’s stomach slowly unraveled as she released all the angst in her chest in one heavy exhale. Joining hands, she sucked in a deep swallow of air and gave each of her girls a most grateful look. “And speaking of pie,” she whispered, elevating her chin to the point of resolve, “I’ll tell you one thing right now. If Gabriella Dawn turns out to be half the daughter as all of you, Patrick O’Connor will be eating pie for a long time to come.” The shaky semblance of a smile surfaced on her lips. “And I’m talking the ‘humble’ variety,” she said with a tilt of her mouth, “not coconut cream.”

Stomach queasy, Annie eased the window sash up and shot a nervous glance at her bed, blankets bunched under her covers in a lifeless lump. Out of sheer habit, she uttered a silent
prayer that no one would discover she was gone, then doubted God would listen since she was defying her aunt to sneak out to “the devil’s playground” for the second Friday in a row.

Her breathing suspended as she slipped one foot out the window and then the other, purse looped around her neck and Steven’s coat tied securely to her waist while her high heels peeked from his pockets. The scent of Aunt Eleanor’s climbing roses tickled her nose as she lodged her Keds into the trellis slots, careful to avoid the thorns hidden on the rambler’s sturdy canes beneath glossy green leaves. She chewed at her lip. Heaven knows she didn’t want to go against her aunt’s wishes, but she had to return Steven’s coat, right?

Ouch!
She gasped at the prick of a hidden thorn, certain it was punishment for lying to herself as well as to Aunt Eleanor. Because the truth was, she
wanted
to see Steven O’Connor again, pure and simple, and the guilt over disobeying her aunt was clear indication her motives were neither “pure”
nor
“simple.” The kiss she now suspected he’d given to scare her away from flirtatious ways had only deepened her resolve to catch his eye, invading her thoughts and dreams on a daily basis. Her Keds hit the ground with a soft thud, and immediately she sucked on her bleeding finger, a small price to see Steven O’Connor again.

“Do you think
he’ll
be there?” Annie had asked days prior when Peggy invited her to join her sister’s group the next weekend at the Pier.

Her friend’s mischievous smile had bolstered her hope. “After the kiss you said he gave you?” She winked. “I’m betting he’ll be looking for more than his coat!”

Heat broiled Annie’s cheeks, but she couldn’t deny, deep down, she hoped Peg was right. The night was warm, but Annie slipped Steven’s jacket over her shoulders nonetheless, tiptoeing around the house before breaking into a breathless run to meet Peggy at the corner.

“That coat swallows you whole,” Peggy called with a chuckle when Annie sprinted up. “Just like Steven will if you
did what I told you.” Folding her arms, she assessed Annie in the glow of the streetlamp overhead. “Let’s see—eyeliner, shadow, lipstick.” She lifted Steven’s lapels to open his coat wide. “Mmm . . . very nice, especially that sweater we found at Filene’s guaranteed to bug the eyes out of any man’s head.”

Skitters in her belly, Annie fingered the soft baby-blue pullover Peggy insisted she buy one size too small. Completely self-conscious, she tugged the V neckline up to hide the cleft of her breasts. “Are you sure it’s not—” she drew in a shaky breath, rib cage as tight as her sweater—“you know, suggestive?”

Peggy’s laughter fairly echoed down the busy street where Friday-night traffic milled, even at the late hour of ten o’clock. “Oh, it’s suggestive, all right. It suggests loud and clear you aren’t that small-town little girl Steven O’Connor thinks you are.” She fluffed the bottom of Annie’s strawberry-blonde hair with the palm of her hand. “And even though your aunt won’t let you bob your hair, pin-curling it to get those soft, loose waves to your shoulders looks very Greta Garbo-ish in the movie
As You Desire Me
. Especially with your part on the side.” She pulled a wave of Annie’s hair over one eye. “There, perfect! Very ‘come hither.’ ”

Annie peeked up at the half curtain of bangs, stomach in a tizzy. “Not too ‘come hither,’ I hope. Steven doesn’t like fast girls.”

Peggy hooked her arm through Annie’s and led her down the street, a throaty giggle on her lips. “The trick with a man like Steven O’Connor,” she said with an air of authority, “is to look ‘fast’ enough to catch his eye, but proper enough to keep him interested. Apparently he’s an old-fashioned guy. Tends to fall for the vamps, but then dumps ’em if they’re too fast, or at least that’s what Joanie said happened with his old girlfriend.”

Maggie? Fast?
The notion stung every time Annie heard it, and she suspected and hoped it was Erica and Joanie’s jealousy talking and not the truth. Even so, she was going to
have to confide in Peggy that she was Maggie’s sister. Tonight, before they met with the gang
.
A knot shifted in her throat. “Did you know her? Maggie, I mean?” she whispered.

“Naw,” Peggy said, glancing both ways at the next intersection before dragging Annie across. “But Erica and Joanie did. They were all part of the same crowd from college.”

“It could be a rumor, you know,” Annie said quietly, determined to stick up for her sister. “Erica seems to dislike her a lot, so maybe she spread nasty things about her.”

“Yeah, maybe. Joanie says Erica’s always been crazy for Steven, so I wouldn’t be surprised.” She nodded toward the beach, where the welcoming sounds of music could be heard several blocks away. “Hear that? Joanie says it’ll be crowded because Paul Whiteman is playing.” Her excited chatter continued all the way to the Pier before she halted in front of the dock to pluck Annie’s heels out of Steven’s pockets. She handed them to her friend with a gleam in her eye. “Coat off and heels on, Annie Lou, you’ve got a man to catch.”

Pulse pumping, Annie kicked off her Keds, which Peggy quickly stashed under the pier. She slipped into two-inch heels that boosted her confidence as well as her height, then reluctantly slid Steven’s coat from her shoulders, immediately missing its warmth. Peggy chuckled at wolf whistles from a group of guys passing by, but Annie didn’t dare look, certain her cheeks were aflame. With a roiling in her stomach that rivaled the churn of the bay, she folded Steven’s jacket over her arm and blinked at Peggy, nerves as shaky as her two-inch heels on the cobblestones beneath her.

“So . . . how do I look?” she asked with a crack in her voice.

Peggy laughed and tugged Annie’s sweater a smidge south before delivering a sassy wink. “Like a woman who’s going to steal Steven O’Connor’s heart—and every other guy’s if they’re not careful. Let’s go.”

“Uh, Peg?” Annie stalled, wobbling in place. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah?” Peggy turned.

“Steven’s old girlfriend?” A lump shifted in her throat as she absently pulled the sweater back up. “She’s my sister.”

Peggy blinked before her eyes flared wide. “Holy smoke, Annie, are you kidding?”

She shook her head, sneaking a peek at Peggy with tented brows. “So, I kind of don’t want anyone to know my name is Kennedy just yet, you know?
Especially
Steven.” A sigh withered on her lips. “But I’m not real sure how to do that because I don’t want to lie.”

Peggy looped her arm through Annie’s with a wink. “Leave it to me, kiddo,” she said with a grin. “But, wow, if this shocks me, just think what it’s going to do to Steven.”

“Yeah, I know.” Annie gave her a weak smile. “But for now it’s our secret, okay?”

“You bet,” Peggy said with a chuckle. “Heaven knows I’m a sucker for surprises.” She towed Annie down the ramp, and the moment they stepped in the ballroom, the magic was back, causing Annie’s stomach to whirl as much as the couples on the floor. She followed behind Peggy, inching through a crowd that shimmered with excitement like the mirror ball overhead.

“You made it,” Joanie said when they reached the table. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Sorry, Annie’s aunt doesn’t approve,” Peggy explained, pulling chairs out for them both, “so she has to wait till she’s asleep to sneak out.”

“Well, I sure approve,” Joanie said with a quick scan of Annie’s outfit. She spotted Steven’s coat draped over Annie’s arm. “Hey, what’s that?”

“Oh, Steven lent Annie his coat to keep warm while he walked her home last week,” Peggy said effortlessly, sliding into a chair next to Erica while Annie followed suit.

“Gotta hand it to you, Peg, the kid looks like a new woman, don’t you think, guys?” Joanie glanced over at Joe, Stan, and two other men who were staring so blatantly, more heat swarmed Annie’s cheeks.

Joe winked, his ready smile putting her at ease. “You bet—
you look gorgeous, Annie. How ’bout a Dr Pepper? And, Peg, Coca-Cola?”

“Thanks, Joe, I’d love one,” Annie said.

“Oooo, me too, Agent Walsh.” Peggy gave him a playful bat of her eyes.

“Got it. Coca-Cola for Miss Pankow and Dr Pepper for Miss . . .” He grinned. “Say, Annie, I don’t believe we know your last name.”

“Annie hails from the Martins of Beacon Hill, don’t you know,” Peggy said smoothly, her snooty tease sidestepping the Kennedy name without a twitch of an eye. “She lives with her aunt, Eleanor Martin.”

Annie gulped, uneasy with deception, but grateful she’d confided in Peggy.
So, not a lie exactly . . .
Her palms began to sweat.
More like an assumption that I’ll correct soon enough.

“Well, then, Miss Martin,” Joe said with broad smile, “one addiction coming right up.”

He disappeared and Joanie introduced the other two men as Allan and Mark, friends of Joe’s. Annie smiled shyly, then nodded at Ashley and Erica.

“You certainly clean up well,” Erica said with grudging respect. “Nice job, Peg.”

“Thanks,” Peggy said with pride, “but it wasn’t hard with those cheekbones and body.” She glanced around. “So . . . where’s Steven?” she asked in an innocent tone.