A Passion Denied (37 page)

Sweat that had nothing to do with basketball began to bead at the back of his neck. He grinned and reached for one of two glasses Mrs. Clary had just poured, ignoring the smug smile on Father Mac’s face. “Wouldn’t miss it. Truth be told, it’s the only culture I get.”

Father Mac took a quick gulp of lemonade and slapped Brady on the back. “Well, ladies, if you’ll excuse us, John and I will be in my study discussing his rather sad performance on the basketball court today. Thank you for the lemonade, Mrs. Clary.”

“My pleasure, Father.”

“It’s so good of you sharing time with your flock, Father Mac,” Miss Ramona observed.

“‘Shearing time’ is more like it,” Brady mumbled, following Matt to the door.

Father Mac flashed a quick smile in the ladies’ direction before giving Brady a narrow gaze. “I heard that. I won fair and square, and we both know it.”

Father Mac pushed the study door open and ambled to his desk, motioning for Brady to sit down. He took a sip of lemonade and propped his feet up. He eyed Brady over the rim of his glass. “So, how are you doing today? Judging from your game, I’d say not too good. I’m a big believer in prayer, but even prayer can’t take all the credit for my win today. You’re off your game and you look tired. Why?”

Brady’s lips twisted. “Maybe I was just showing you a little mercy, letting you win. Ever think of that?”

Father Mac studied him with a penetrating gaze. “Maybe. But I don’t think so.”

Brady exhaled and sank back into a leather chair positioned at the front of Matt’s desk. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. “No, I don’t think so, either. I don’t know. Guess I didn’t sleep well last night. Had another dream.”

“About Elizabeth?”

Brady nodded and sighed, gouging his fingers deep into his scalp.

“What was it this time?”

“We were somewhere—in a park, I think—just talking and laughing. Then I kissed her.”

“And how did you feel? Guilty?”

Brady opened his eyes to meet Matt’s questioning gaze. “No, not until I woke up. And then maybe a little, but nothing like it’s been in the past. The dream, it was . . .” He averted his gaze to stare out the window, lost in the haze of sunlight that shimmered into the room. “Wonderful, exhilarating . . .” A shallow attempt at a laugh lodged in his throat. “It actually left me breathless. Until I woke up.”

“That’s progress, John. There was a time you couldn’t even discuss these dreams with me for all the shame and guilt you bore. God’s moving in your life, my friend, through our prayers and your willingness to confront your past. He’s healing you.”

Brady glanced up, and a flicker of hope fluttered in his chest. “Yeah, I think he is. I can feel it, Matt, and I know you’re right. But the more he heals me of the guilt and the shame, the more I seem to dream of her.” He stood to his feet and moved to the window, anxious to avoid Matt’s scrutiny. He leaned his palms on the windowsill and released a weighty breath, lost in a vacant stare. “That can’t be good.”

“Why not? You’re in love with the girl. You just couldn’t see that before for all the guilt and shame. But your subconscious is facing it now, and it’s about time you do too.”

Brady turned, realization drifting in his mind as gently as the motes of dust swirling in the sunlight. His lips parted in shock. “I . . . am, aren’t I? I love her . . . as a woman and not as a sister.” His eyes fluttered closed. “Dear God, I’ve been a fool.”

A low chuckle rumbled from Father Mac’s throat. “Not a fool, John, a slave. To your past. But ‘if the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.’ ”

Brady blinked to ward off the emotion that threatened. “Thank you, Father, for all you’ve done.”

Father Mac smiled. Affection shone in his eyes. “You did it, John, you and God. All I did was lead the way.” He reached for his glass and drained it. “But don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a lot to do. A relationship to build, which is a tall order for a man who’s avoided women all his life.”

Brady thought of Beth. The lemonade instantly soured in his stomach. How was he going to do this? To tell her he loved her? And not lose the contents of his stomach? Even now, a tinge of guilt assaulted his mind. What if it wasn’t gone? What if it came back? What if he told her he loved her and couldn’t? She’d be devastated . . . and so would he. The air thickened in his throat, and his hands began to sweat.

As if reading his mind, Matt’s steady tone countered the fear in Brady’s gut. “You take it slowly, one day at a time. You spend time with her, get to know her as a woman, her likes and dislikes. You revel in the attraction you have for her, because it’s a gift from God, meant to be tempered by his precepts. Honor him and you will honor her. The demons from your past will try to convince you it won’t work, but it’s a lie. You’re free, John, and God has a plan for your life better than anything you dreamed possible.”

Brady swallowed a cleansing gulp of air and exhaled slowly. “Thanks, Matt. I needed that, and I believe it. But do you mind if we pray?”

Father Mac settled back in his chair and crossed his brand-new Keds—the latest fad—on his desk with an air of authority. He tucked his hands behind his head and shot Brady a lopsided grin. “Mmm . . . novel idea. Wish I’d thought of it.”

Lizzie’s hand lingered on the knob long after the shop door closed behind her. She wrinkled her nose. “Is it my imagination, or did Brady seem a bit strange today?”

Mary ducked her head and glanced through the window, eyeing Brady bent over a press. “Maybe a little. He did seem to be in a particularly good mood. Why?”

Lizzie peered through the glass. “I don’t know, he just seemed different . . . nervous, almost shy.”

She turned away from the window with a sigh and started down the busy street. Lunchtime was in full sway, and the shops were crowded with patrons. She grabbed Mary’s arm to dodge a delivery man with a crate of peaches. The sweet smell rumbled her stomach. “Of course, Brady’s always been ‘different,’ I suppose, but never like this. Did you see his face when I hugged him? Dear Lord, I didn’t know a man could turn that many shades of red. And I’ve hugged Brady more than any human being alive, except for my mother and father.”

Mary giggled. “Now that you mention it, he was a bit out of character today. I literally had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing when he sat down and missed the chair.”

Lizzie’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Oh, I know. I’ve never seen him do that before. Brady’s always so calm and self-assured.” She gripped Mary’s arm. “And did you see how he was—”

“Sweating? Oh, my goodness, yes! It was literally pouring off of him, so much so that parts of his shirt were soaked.”

The two girls clutched each other, laughing so hard that tears sprang to their eyes.

Lizzie wiped the wetness from her face. “That’s what I mean, Mary. Something was different today.”

Mary hooked an arm through Lizzie’s. “Well, it can’t be anything bad, because he was in a really good mood.”

Lizzie chewed on her lip. “Yes, he was. So good he actually asked me to go fishing with him and Cluny sometime.”

Mary came to a halt. “Brady asked you out?”

Lizzie scrunched her nose. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Mary. Brady’s made it perfectly clear how he feels about me, and I’m not about to toy with heartbreak again. He and I are friends, period. And nothing short of an edict from God will get me to go down that road again.”

“Then why did he ask you out?”

Lizzie kept walking. “Who knows? It’s fishing, nothing more. And nothing definite. He didn’t even say when.”

“Mmm . . . that’s odd.”

“Besides, I think his real motive is for me to bring Katie fishing with us. He mentioned that Cluny’s a bit down because his gram is coming home. He won’t be able to live with Brady anymore, so Brady wants to cheer him up. Apparently Katie is the cure.”

“Awww . . . that’s so cute.”

“Yeah, real sweet. Katie, Cluny, me . . . and the cold fish.” Lizzie rolled her eyes. “And I’m not talking about the ones in the lake.”

Mary chuckled. “Any girl in her right mind can take one look at Brady and see that he’s not a cold fish.”

Lizzie sighed. “He is with me, and nothing can convince me otherwise. He will be my big brother until the day I die, and I have finally learned to accept it.”

They reached the threshold of Bookends. Lizzie pushed the door open with a grunt. The bell rang overhead, and Millie looked up from the register. “About time. I’m starving.”

Lizzie smirked. “Don’t pull that on me, Millie Doza. Your lunch is long gone, and I bet there are crumbs on the counter to prove it.”

Millie winked and waved her new
Photoplay
magazine in the air. She hurried toward the back of the store. “I didn’t say for food, did I? This is the brand-new issue, and I’m dying to devour it.”

Mary shook her head and circled the register. She squeezed Lizzie’s shoulder. “As far as Brady is concerned, Lizzie, I think that’s a good thing.”

Lizzie bundled a stack of loose books in her arms. “What’s a good thing?”

“You know, like you were saying. That you’ve resolved yourself to think of Brady as a brother.” She snatched a pile of receipts from a sharp spike on the counter and began to tally them in a ledger. “Although the man’s so ridiculously appealing, I can see how difficult that is. He could be a real sheik if he had a mind to. But, that’s part of his charm, I suppose. He has absolutely no idea the effect he has on women.”

Lizzie sighed and returned the books to their proper places. “Please, I’ve spent too many lost years dwelling on Brady’s appeal. I just want to get on with my life.”

“Speaking of which . . .” Mary said with a raised brow. “What’s been going on with Michael?”

“Nothing more than I told you last time. Michael and I are friends. He shows up every Sunday for Mass, eats lunch with us and sometimes dinner. For pity’s sake, his brother has turned him away, so somebody has to befriend him.”

“Why should it be you?”

Lizzie propped her hands on her hips and stared Mary down. “Because I feel sorry for him. I don’t think the man has ever been around a family before. You should see him at our house— he’s like a little boy at Christmas. He plays games with Steven and Katie, talks to Mother about anything and everything, and plays chess with Father. And quite frankly, he makes me laugh, which is something I can certainly use lately, given what Brady’s put me through.”

Mary took a deep breath and continued logging receipts. She avoided Lizzie’s gaze. “As long as he doesn’t ‘make’ you do anything else,” she muttered.

“Mary Carpenter!” Lizzie’s cheeks flamed hot. “For pity’s sake, he’s Brady’s brother. And the man is only in town for a short time. What do you have against him, anyway? You haven’t even met him.”

Mary glanced up, her look as searing as Lizzie’s. “Brady doesn’t think he’s good for you. That’s enough for me. And it should be for you too.”

Lizzie folded her arms. “First Brady, and now you. I’ll have you know that Michael Brady is a decent, God-fearing friend who has done nothing but shown me the utmost courtesy and respect.”

Mary scrutinized Lizzie through narrow eyes. “And he’s never tried to kiss you, not even once?”

Lizzie notched her chin. “Maybe once, in the beginning at Brady’s flat, but never again. He knows there’s no way I’d consider him romantically, and I told him so.”

“So he comes over for nothing but pure friendship?”

Lizzie pursed her lips. “Yes, Mary, he does. He’s lonely, for pity’s sake. The man knows absolutely no one in Boston but his brother, who won’t even give him the time of day. Besides, he only plans to be in town for a few more weeks, so why are we even having this discussion?”

Mary pushed the receipts back in the register. She stared at Lizzie for several seconds before releasing a weary breath. She shoved the register closed. “I’m sorry, Lizzie, I just care about you. My past hasn’t given me much reason to trust many people, but I do trust you and Brady. I love you both.”

All the frustration seeped out of Lizzie as she walked to where Mary stood with a pitiful expression on her face. She gave her a hug. “Mary, I love you too. And I appreciate your concern, but believe me, when it comes to falling in love, I’m more than a little gun-shy when it comes to both Bradys. Friendship is undoubtedly the safest course.”

Mary gave her a sideways glance. “Undoubtedly. So when’s he leaving?”

“I don’t know, but soon.”

“Humph . . . not soon enough. At least to suit Brady.” Mary snatched an armload of invoices from under the counter and headed for the back.

Lizzie’s tone was teasing as she called after her. “I already have a guardian angel, Mary Carpenter, so you can rest easy.”

Mary turned at the door. “Rest easy? Sure, Lizzie, don’t worry about me.” Her lips tilted in an obvious tease. “It’s the angel I’m worried about.”