Touched By Angels (11 page)

“Yo, Miss Cassidy,” Emilio called out. “Your car’s running like a dream.”

Despite her misgivings, Brynn managed a smile. “If I could please have my bill,” she said with stiff politeness.

Roberto gestured toward his brother. “Emilio will take care of that.”

Brynn hesitated before leaving the garage for the small outer office where Emilio stood. Although Roberto had been deliberately rude, she felt obligated to him. “I want you to know I appreciate your help.”

Involved once again with another vehicle, Roberto didn’t bother to answer. It was almost as if he were ignoring her. His lack of a response to her peace offering offended her pride. Swallowing the small hurt, Brynn brushed the hair from her face.

“Your car runs like new,” Emilio told her as he stepped behind the cash register. “Roberto asked me to test-drive it around the block. I hope you don’t mind that I let a couple of my posse join me.”

“Four is more than a couple,” she informed him primly.

“I know,” the youth said with a flash of pearly white teeth. “But it isn’t every day that we can say we rode in a teacher’s car.”

Brynn decided it was best to not comment.

Emilio located the work order for her vehicle and scanned its contents. Brynn had been waiting for this moment, praying that the expense wouldn’t wipe out the meager remainder of her budget for the month. The Escort had well over two hundred thousand miles on it and thus far had been relatively problem free. With the dread building up inside her, she opened her purse and took out her checkbook.

Something didn’t appear to be right, because Emilio looked up from the bill. “I need to ask Roberto something,” he said, and walked around from behind the counter. In the other room, the two brothers talked in hushed tones.

Emilio returned, wearing a wide grin. “It’s on the house,” he announced.

Brynn wasn’t sure she understood. “What do you mean?”

Pride gleamed in the youth’s dark eyes. “You don’t owe us anything.”

“But I can’t let you do that. . . .”

“Roberto insists.”

Still Brynn argued. “That wouldn’t be right.”

“It’s a gift, Miss Cassidy,” Emilio said with a deep sigh of frustration. “Didn’t you ever learn you’re not supposed to question someone when they give you a gift? Some lady with manners wrote it up in a book. You read all the time . . . you must have read that.”

Brynn was uncertain. “Let me at least pay for any parts.”

“No way.” The teenager held up both hands as though she were holding him up.

“But carburetors can be expensive.” She didn’t want Roberto absorbing the cost of this.

“Roberto says he found another carburetor at the junkyard and got it for next to nothing. Besides, he let me do most of the work myself.” His dark eyes pleaded with her to accept this small gift.

“Emilio, I don’t know how to thank you.”

His face erupted in a wide smile. “I’ll think of something.”

Roberto shouted from the other room, and Emilio’s smart smile disappeared. “Think nothing of it, Miss Cassidy.”

“Thank you both again.” Brynn felt like a fool for having made such an issue of Emilio driving her vehicle. She glanced toward the garage, but Roberto was bent over the side of the truck, busy at work. “Tell your brother that I’m grateful.”

“I will.” Emilio followed her outside and held open her car door for her.

When she couldn’t find her car keys, she eyed the youth. A desperate look came over him, and he slapped his hands over his shirt and pants pockets, then laughed and withdrew them from his hip pocket. “I had you worried there, didn’t I?”

Brynn rolled her eyes, then started the engine. As Emilio had said earlier, it purred like new. Her car sounded better than it had in years. She backed out of the driveway. It was as she started down the street that she noticed Roberto Alcantara watching her from inside the building.

* * *

He owed her an apology, Roberto reasoned. He’d been angry and frustrated the day they’d met, and he’d taken his irritation out on her. True, he believed the things he’d said, but generally he kept his opinions to himself. It had helped relieve his irritation to sound off at Emilio’s teacher; but it hadn’t been fair.

An hour before he’d met Brynn, Roberto had learned his offer to lease a building in another neighborhood had been rejected. It hadn’t been the first time a landlord had refused to rent to him. Naturally he’d been given some flimsy excuse, but Roberto had learned long ago the real reason. No one wanted a Hispanic taking up residence nearby.

Brynn Cassidy was everything Emilio had said. Bright. Intelligent. Pretty. Roberto feared his younger brother was half in love with her himself. But this spunky teacher was off-limits to the both of them, and Roberto knew it. It would be best if he never saw her again.

Funny how a woman could be so dangerous; but Roberto had recognized it from the first moment they’d met. Brynn Cassidy just might teach him to dream, too.

Friday evening Brynn arrived at the gymnasium behind St. Philip’s. She walked into the gaily decorated room and stopped to admire the decorations. Red and green streamers were looped across the ceiling from one end of the room to the other. A refreshment table was set up alongside the folded bleachers.

“Hello, Miss Cassidy.” The first one to greet her was Suzie Chang, who looked exceptionally pretty in a dark blue silk pants suit.

“Oh, Suzie, you look so nice.”

The Chinese girl lowered her head and blushed. “So do you.”

Brynn hadn’t been exactly sure what to wear and had opted for a blouse and skirt and patent-leather flats. Although she’d attended a number of school dances at St. Mary’s, she’d never actually served as a chaperone. Generally the girls’ school relied on parents and members of the PTA.

“Miss Cassidy,” Emilio called. He helped himself to a handful of cookies. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m a chaperone.”

“Hey, that’s cool. So’s my brother.”

Brynn hadn’t recognized Roberto without his coveralls. She hadn’t given Roberto much notice before, but now . . . caught by his piercing dark eyes, Brynn found it difficult to look away.

“Hello, Roberto.”

“Miss Cassidy.” He nodded politely in her direction.

The music started. It came from a sound system with large speakers that blared from the front of the stage. No one seemed to want to be the first one on the dance floor.

“Hey, you two,” Emilio said. “Shouldn’t you start the dancing or something?”

Hannah needed to talk to Joshua. It was important that she return the gloves as soon as possible. It was wrong of her to have kept them this long. Then to walk past him on the street and pretend that she didn’t know him was a terrible insult. She’d witnessed for herself the surprise and confusion in his gaze. Yet she was forever grateful that he’d read her silent message and hadn’t greeted her. Hannah didn’t know how she would explain knowing him to her mother.

For herself, Hannah was both bewildered and guilty, and she felt like a coward. It was unfair to Joshua to lead him to believe that she was free to care for him. Unfair to Carl, who’d courted her faithfully these many months. She’d juggled with her conscience until she couldn’t think straight any longer.

“I do wish we weren’t doing this,” Hannah said to her mother.

“Doing what?” Ruth questioned. “Buying my daughter a trousseau? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“We haven’t set the wedding date yet.”

“You will soon enough.” In the eyes of her parents she was all but married to Carl Rabinsky.

“Your father and I have patiently waited all these years for a man who was worthy of you.”

A lifetime of accepting what her parents felt was right was what helped Hannah hold her tongue.

“Such a wedding you’ll have,” Ruth promised, her eyes alight with excitement.

Hannah found she couldn’t look at her mother.

“Your father’s already talking about the food for the reception. I promise you it will be one that people will talk about for years to come. You are our only child. God’s gift to us. Our joy.”

“Mama, what if I don’t love Carl?”

Her mother hesitated, but for only a moment. “Nonsense. I know you, Hannah, you wouldn’t have agreed to be his wife if you didn’t love him. Carl will make you a good husband. Every girl has doubts when it comes time to pledge her heart to one man.”

“What if I’d met another man?”

“Who?” her mother demanded as if this were impossible.

“Someone I liked very much and would like to know better.”

Her mother frowned and shook her head. “You won’t. But if you do, then talk to Carl. Tell him your thoughts.”

“I will,” Hannah promised, but she had the feeling that it would be even more difficult to discuss this matter with Carl than with her mother.

“Now come along, we have lots to buy.”

Hannah shuffled along beside her mother. Never had she dreamed that she would dread a shopping expedition the way she did this one.

It was in Saks Fifth Avenue that her mother stopped. “Shall we look at wedding dresses?” Ruth asked, her eyes warm and gentle.

“Don’t you think that would be premature?” Already Hannah’s arms were burdened with packages. “I’m tired, Mama, can we go home?”

Ruth released a low sigh. “Yes, perhaps that would be for the best.”

Outside once more, Hannah felt invigorated as the cold hit against her cheeks. She matched her steps with those of her mother, who walked along, humming softly to herself. It took Hannah a moment to realize where the melody was coming from.

“You’re singing,” Hannah commented.

Ruth laughed and nodded. “So I am. I do when I’m especially happy.” As they stopped for traffic, Ruth placed her hands against Hannah’s pink cheeks. “You’re going to be the most beautiful bride in all of New York. Mark my words, Hannah Morganstern. I get excited every time I think about planning your wedding.”

Once they were back at the deli, Hannah escaped to her room. As soon as she could, she made an excuse to go out. Almost always she told her parents where she was going, but not this time.

When she arrived at Joshua’s office the receptionist recognized her.

“Is Mr. Shadduck available?” she asked.

The woman looked down at the schedule. “He left no more than a minute ago.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t able to hide her frustration.

“You might be able to catch him.”

“Thank you.” Hannah rushed out of the office and hurried into the first available elevator. Her heart felt as though it would explode as she made her way to the front of the office building. On the sidewalk, she looked both ways and sighed with relief when she spied Joshua walking away from her, carrying a briefcase.

“Joshua,” she called.

He turned at the sound of her voice, and his face lit up with pleasure. “Hannah.” He started toward her.

“I’m so sorry,” she said in a breathless rush. She planted her hand over her heart in an effort to regain her breath.

Joshua wrapped his arm around her shoulders and steered her out of the heavy foot traffic. “Don’t worry about it,” he said gently.

“But . . .” She’d been unforgivably rude.

“Let’s sit down a minute and talk this out,” he suggested.

Hannah knew his idea was much better than her handing him back his gift in the middle of a New York sidewalk. At the same time, she feared that spending time with Joshua, even a short amount, would make it all the more difficult to do what she knew she must.

They strolled until Joshua pointed across the street to a five-star hotel famous for its afternoon teas.

Hannah wanted to protest that a cafe would serve just as well, but she wasn’t given the opportunity. Before she could suggest some place else, Joshua had taken her by the arm. Together they raced across the street.

The hotel lobby was filled with polished crystal. Enormous chandeliers gleamed from above, their glittering lights transforming the entire area.

Huge floral wreaths decorated in gold lamé bows hung from marble columns. The registration desk was checkered with poinsettias. Light music swirled about them like a cool autumn mist. Before Hannah had a chance to comment, she was led into a private dining room.

Before Joshua could give the man instructions, the waiter handed them a gold-tasseled menu. Joshua ordered the tea, and the other man quietly slipped away.

Joshua smiled at her. “You said there was something you wanted to tell me?”

Seven

This meeting with Joshua was so much more difficult than Hannah thought it would be. But there was no help for it. She had to tell him she was engaged to Carl. To delay any longer would be a grave disservice to them both. As they sat in the elegant hotel restaurant waiting for the tea to be served, Hannah struggled to find the words.

“Joshua,” she said, dragging a deep breath through her lungs, her heart heavy.

“You received the gloves?”

“Yes, thank you, but I can’t accept—”

“Joshua Shadduck?”

Hannah was cut off midsentence by a well-dressed middle-aged woman who stopped at their table. Her gaze drifted from Joshua to Hannah, and her eyes were marked with warm approval.

“Gloria.” Joshua stood and enthusiastically hugged the white-haired woman. He turned to Hannah. “Hannah Morganstern, meet Judge Fowler.”

Impressed to meet a judge, Hannah smiled and said, “I’m honored.”

“I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you all week,” Gloria said. Her gaze connected briefly with Hannah’s once again. “But I can see that now isn’t a good time. I promise I’ll call you soon.”

“I’ll look forward to hearing from you,” Joshua returned. Before he could reseat himself, the judge whispered something in his ear, then turned away.

Joshua grinned broadly, then explained to Hannah. “She approves.”

“Approves?”

“Of you. She told me it was high time I . . . well, never mind.”

“Joshua.” A stout figure of a man approached their table next. “By George, it’s good to see you,” he said, sounding genuinely pleased.

“Hello, Tom.” Although Hannah didn’t know Joshua well, she could hear the frustration in his voice.

The other man studied Hannah with barely disguised admiration. His blue eyes twinkled. Before Joshua could introduce him properly, he stretched his hand across the table. “Tom Colfax,” he said.