Running From Fate (2 page)

James straightened his back and looked the bigger man in the eye.
“M
y da
didn’t send me,” he fumed.
“I came by myself and I’m no
looking for charity.”

“What is it that you want then?”

“
It doesn’t sit right for you to pay my dad’s wages when he’s not working
.”
Especially when it was his
da’s
own fault. 
He
turned and started to pace.
“
I know I’m young, but I like to build.
I can cut wood or use a hammer or anything you want
.
If you just give me a chance I can do a good job
.”
His voice rang with both boyish pride and de
termination
as he stopped and waited for Sean to say something.
  A flash of movement made him look up.

The boy’s
deep, blue eyes locked
on hers and
Mira felt
as if
her b
reath
had
stop
ped.  Something
strange
stir
red
to life
inside her.

James
stood rooted to the spot
, hearing Sean’s voice, but not understanding it
.
He
couldn’t seem to take his eyes off
the small girl
who watched him
.
Something about
her stare made him feel strange.
It w
as too intense, almost intimate, but he
couldn’t make himself look away
.
She was pretty, he supposed
, in her own way
, w
ith her
emerald
green eyes
sparkling and her brown hair sti
cking up in all directions. 
She smiled and he found himself smiling back.
A throat cleared
and he jerked his eyes away.

The expression on Mr. Sweeney’s face was sad and somehow guilty.
Before he
uttered a word
, James already knew the answer.

“I’m very sorry son
,
” he said,
“but you’
re just too young for the job.
I wish there was something I could do, but
—
.”

“Surely, there’s
something he could do, daddy,”
Mira
piped up.
It was time to ride to the rescue
.
She flew down the stairs and stopped next to her father.
Looking up at him, she batted her
long
lashes.
  “Please?”

Sean
Sweeney sighed and looked at James.

It was clear
from his resigned, but doting expression
that he couldn’t deny his
young
daughter.

“I could use an assistant,” he
finally
said, “but this will be
on a trial basis only,” he warned.
“
C
ome by tomorrow after school and we can
arrange things
.
Wait here for a minute
.” 
He turned and headed for the kitchen
.

As soon
as Mr. Sweeney was out of sight
James glanced toward the bottom of the stairs
where the little girl still stood.
She was winding a strand of brown hair around her finger
and staring at him
.
At that moment, he fiercely resented her.
While happy to have a job, it hurt his pride
to know
that
it was only because this girl
—
a baby really
—
had interfered.
Glowering at her, he opened his mouth.
Before he could speak,
however,
Mr. Sweeney came back.
He held his hand
out to James.

“This is an advance,” he said.
“
Take
it straight home and give
it to your m
a
.
”

James reluctantly glanced down at the paper.
He gasped as he saw the amount.
Five hun
dred dollars was more money than
he had ever seen, but it would buy a lot of food for the family.
Although it went against his upbringing to accept charity, he put the check in his pocket
and vowed to be the best assistant ever
.
“Thank you, Mr. Sweeney,” he said.  “
You won’t regret this.”
He
turned around and
walked out the door, imagining the joy on his mother’s face when he gave her the news.
By the time he had reached the end of the walk, he had completely forgotten the strange little girl.

I
nside the neat, brick house Sean
turned to his daughter.
“Is there any reason why I gave a non-existent job to that young man?” he asked.

“Yes,” Mira answered with a faraway look in her green eyes.
“He’s mine and
someday
I’m going to marry him.”
She
threw an impish grin
at her father and, turning, danced back up the stairs.

September 6
^th
, 1995

St. Catherine’s Prep School

The room was a mess.  The floor was covered by shoes, clothes, magazines, empty chip bags, CD cases and everything else that three teenage girls need
ed
to survive.  Somewhere under the clutter was an old writing desk covered
,
not by books, but by jars and bottles and liberally dusted with spilled blush and eye shadow.

Single beds with wooden frames sat
against three of the walls.  Two
of these beds were empty, their occupants
away on a shopping trip into the city
.  Mira sat on the third bed surveying the destruction
. 
It was nothing like home, which was always ordered and pristine, but she love
d
it
s
unbridled enthusiasm.

She hadn’t appreciated anything when she first got her
e
four months, too angry over her abrupt removal from home.  She was still
pissed off at
her mother
as she was the one who had talk
ed her dad into sending her
.  What
did
it
matter
if
her daughter
spent more time at the office or shadowing the construction sites
than she did trying on cl
othes or worrying about
makeup?
  She was planning on becoming an architectural designer anyway and her daddy didn’t seem to mind if she showed and interest in his company.

She smiled as she thought of the last letter he had sent her.  It had seemed one of his suppliers was selling him sub-grade wood.  If he hadn’t discovered it in time it could have really hurt his reputation and maybe even caused someone to get hurt.  Sean Sweeney, though, hadn’t brought the matter to the police.  Oh no,
in true private-eye fashion—he was always reading those
detective books—he was investigating the man himself.  She wished she could be there to help him.

Still, some good things had come out of it.  The classes at St. Cat’s weren’t a total bore and Lily and Sarah were great roommates. 
Plus, she looked down at herself and grinned, the school had a great track team and, after a few horrible, exhausting weeks, she had discovered tha
t she absolutely loved running.  The unsightly pounds that
had settled around her wa
i
s
t
years ago and refused to budge
were
finally coming off.  And
—
her grin widened
—
her breasts were actually starting to grow
.  She
was now a solid A cup and had grown out of her ‘pea holders’
.
 
She still wasn’t the willowy bea
uty she wanted to be, but
it
might be
enough to make James stop treating her like a little sister.

Plus,
she had even received another letter from him today. 
Perhaps this one would have something personal in it, more than complaint
s
about all the extra work he was doing no
w
that he was in grad school. 
S
he couldn’t wait to read it.

Propping a pillow behind her back and settling more firmly against the wall, she pulled the slightly wrinkled envelope from her pocket
.
Unconsciously, she fingered the
simple
heart-shaped
locket that
James
had given her for her last birthday
.
  Granted, it didn’t look like it had cost much money, but it was still a piece of jewelry.

With her tongue held between her teeth, she carefully opened
the flap and pulled out the two
handwritten pages
.
It wasn’t as long as she would
have
like
d
, but she contented herself with the fact th
at it was the
third
letter
he had sent her in
four
months.
She
blithely
chose to ignore the fact that she had probably sent him three times as many
.