Marta Perry - Unlikely Hero

With a few careless waves, they were gone. He closed the door and locked it, aware as he did so of how futile the gesture was. There were a dozen easy ways into the building if someone really wanted to break in.

He was taking a chance with those kids, walking a tightrope they didn’t even know existed. One instance of vandalism or thievery would be enough to bring the church board down on him with both feet.

He switched off the lights and started toward his office. Would Claire stop by? She’d done that several times after meeting with Stacy, staying to share a soda and talk. He’d started looking forward to it.

She probably wouldn’t tonight. He thought again of their conversation on Saturday. Ostensibly about the tables, it had ranged a lot further. He’d pushed too much, both about her faith, or lack of it, and her relationship with the rest of the Flanagans.

If Claire had belonged to Jesus as a child, she still did, whether she believed that or not. God would not let go of her easily.

Father, reawaken Claire to that knowledge of You that she had as a child. I’d like to be Your instrument with her, if that’s Your will.

His worry eased with the prayer. Claire’s spiritual well-being was ultimately in God’s hands, not his. As for her attitude toward the family—well, he couldn’t pretend he understood it, but he’d like to.

His steps quickened. The light was on in his study. Through the open door, he saw Claire sitting in the visitor’s chair, the lamplight making her hair glow.

A wave of pleasure swept over him, startling him with its strength. He’d known he wanted to see her. He just hadn’t known how much.

“Claire, hi. How did it go tonight?” He tossed his keys onto the desk and swung to face her.

She looked up, and he knew something was wrong. Very wrong.

“What is it?” He reached toward her instinctively. “What’s happened?”

“Stacy.” Her eyes had darkened with what seemed to be a combination of frustration and anger. “She’s pregnant.”

He took an involuntary step back and bumped into the desk, struggling to get his mind around the ramifications of that unexpected blow.

“Are you sure?”

“Sure?” She surged out of the chair as if she could no longer be still. The movement brought her close enough that he could smell the spicy scent she wore. “How can I be? Stacy’s sure. She says she took three different tests and they all came out positive.”

“I guess that’s sure enough.” He ran his hand through his hair, then gripped the back of his neck. “This complicates things.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

He wasn’t sure whether the edge in her voice was for him, for Stacy, or for the whole situation.

“Honestly, Claire. I never suspected. I’m sorry I got you involved.”

“You should be.” A bit of dark humor flashed in her eyes. “I thought I was just helping her get a job. I could probably do that, but I’m not qualified for pregnancy counseling.”

Something flickered in her face as she said the words, gone so quickly he might have imagined it.

“How is Stacy taking this?”

She shook her head, her hair brushing against her cheek. “What do you think? She’s on a roller coaster. One minute she’s talking very sensibly about having the baby adopted by a family that can take good care of it. The next, she’s indulging in some rosy dream about Ted turning into a model husband and father. As if that’s likely to happen.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“I suppose you think that was a mistake.” Annoyance with him colored her voice. “But Stacy has to face facts. If Ted slapped her around just because he was frustrated about supper being late, he’s hardly likely to improve with a baby to take care of.”

“They’re both so young.”

He knew the statistics, only too well. The chance that Ted and Stacy could make a success of marriage, even if that were what both of them wanted, wasn’t very good.

“She’s agreed to go for counseling with someone qualified to advise her, if I go with her.”

He studied Claire’s face. In spite of her obvious exasperation, she didn’t look as if she intended to bail out at this point.

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

“No.” That honesty of hers pleased him. “But I will. Can you set it up?”

He nodded. “I have some names I refer people to. I’ll check on who would be the best counselor for Stacy and get back to you. Has she told her mother?”

Claire’s expression hardened. “It seems Mom took off on an extended trip with her latest boyfriend. Stacy doesn’t even know how to reach her.”

“I guess this is up to us, then.” Without thinking about it, he reached out and took her hand.

She met his gaze, and hers was serious and steady. “Yes, I guess it is.”

They seemed to be making promises to each other—solemn promises that neither could break lightly.

He inhaled, not sure how long it had been since he breathed. His fingers tightened on hers. Irrational as it was, he didn’t want to let go.

“All right, then. I’d better tell Ted.”

“What?” Claire looked at him as if she couldn’t believe her ears.

“Ted,” he repeated. “He has to be told.”

Had Brendan taken leave of his senses? Claire could only stare at him.

“Why on earth would you think that? Do you want to give him another excuse to knock her around?”

“Of course I don’t.” Brendan looked taken aback at her vehemence. “But Ted has every right to know he’s fathered a child.”

“Right?” Her voice rose, and she snatched her hand away from his. What on earth was she doing holding hands with him anyway? “Ted doesn’t have any rights. He forfeited them the minute he hit her.”

Brendan’s gaze didn’t waver. “I can understand how you feel, but the law might not see it that way.”

She had to make him understand. She couldn’t let him put Stacy or the tiny life she carried in jeopardy.

“What if you tell him, and he has a momentary urge to do the right thing and marry her? What if she does?”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“She might.” I did. Her head throbbed with painful memories, battering at her like fists. I went back. I believed the promises. And I lost my baby as a result.

The doors of memory were wide open now, and the dark pain came surging over her, blinding her to everything else. The small part of her heart that had never stopped grieving that little life, lost before it could even begin, wept bitter, salty tears.

She took a breath, forcing the memories back. She would not let herself give in to them. They were the past, and she was all about the future.

“Claire? Are you all right?” Brendan was looking at her as if he knew.

No. He couldn’t know. No one could.

“I’m fine.” She managed to get the words out, managed to detach herself from the pain. It had taken a miscarriage to make her see that he would never change—that she had to get out or die.

She wouldn’t let Stacy pay that high of a price if she could prevent it.

“Look.” She put some force behind the word. “You’re talking about Ted’s rights, but it’s Stacy we’re trying to help here. Stacy is the injured party.”

“I know that.” Brendan’s expression was troubled, his eyes dark and serious.

Hoping he was wavering, she pressed on. “Besides, we don’t have the right to tell Ted. That’s Stacy’s decision to make, not ours.”

And she’d do everything in her power to make sure Stacy didn’t decide any such thing.

Three vertical frown lines etched themselves between his brows. “I’m counseling Ted. How can I withhold something like this from him?”

She blinked, trying to absorb the words. “You’re doing what?”