Passion Redeemed (The Daughters of Boston Book #2) , livre ebook

A P ASSION R EDEEMED
T HE D AUGHTERS of B OSTON 2

A P ASSION R EDEEMED
JULIE LESSMAN


a division of Baker Publishing Group Grand Rapids, Michigan
2008 by Julie Lessman
Published by Revell a division of Baker Publishing Group P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287 www.revellbooks.com
Printed in the United States of America
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means-for example, electronic, photocopy, recording-without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Lessman, Julie, 1950- A passion redeemed / Julie Lessman. p. cm. -(Daughters of Boston ; 2) ISBN 978-0-8007-3212-7 (pbk.) 1. Irish American families-Fiction. 2. Daughters-Fiction. 3. Boston (Mass.)-Fiction. 4. Ireland-Fiction. 5. United States-History-1913- 1921-Fiction. 6. Ireland-History-1910-1921-Fiction. I. Title. PS3612.E8189P375 2008 813 .6-dc22 2008021681
Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture is taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Scripture marked TNIV is taken from the Holy Bible, Today s New International Version TM Copyright 2001 by International Bible Society. All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
To my husband and best friend, Keith- the greatest evidence of God s love for me, aside from His Son. Before we even met, you were the longing of my heart, and I will love you forever.
Make them like tumbleweed, my God, like chaff before the wind. As fire consumes the forest or a flame sets the mountains ablaze, so pursue them with your tempest and terrify them with your storm. Cover their faces with shame, L ORD so that they will seek your name.
-Psalm 83:13-16 TNIV
Contents
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
Acknowledgments
Prologue
B OSTON , M ASSACHUSETTS , THE D AY A FTER T HANKSGIVING 1918
Patrick O Connor stirred from a deep sleep at the feather touch of his wife s breath, warm against his neck.
Patrick, I need you . . .
Her words tingled through him and he slowly turned, gathering her into his arms with a sleepy smile. He ran his hand up the side of her body, all senses effectively roused.
No, Patrick, she whispered, shooing his hand from her waist, I need you to go downstairs-now! There s someone in the kitchen.
Patrick groaned and plopped back on his pillow. Marcy, there s no one in the kitchen. Go back to sleep, darlin .
She sat up and shook his shoulder. Yes, there is-I heard it. The back door opened and closed.
It s probably Sean after a late night with his friends. He hasn t seen them since before the war, remember?
No, he came home hours ago, and it s the middle of the night. I m telling you, someone s in the kitchen.
Marcy jerked the cover from his body. Icy air prickled his skin. Both of her size 6 feet butted hard against his side and began to push.
He groaned and fisted her ankle, his stubborn streak surfacing along with goose bumps. So help me, woman, I ll not be shoved out of my own bed . . .
She leaned across his chest. Patrick, I m afraid. Can t you at least go downstairs and check?
Her tone disarmed him. It s probably just Faith, digging into Thanksgiving leftovers. She didn t eat much at dinner, you know.
I know, and that s what I thought too, but I just peeked in her room, and I m sure she was under the covers.
One of the others, then-
No, they re all sleeping. I checked. Please, Patrick? For my peace of mind? Won t you go down and see?
He sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Yes, Marcy, I will go down and see. For your peace of mind. He swiped his slippers off the floor and yanked them on his feet. And for mine. He started for the door.
Wait! Take something with you. A shoe, a belt-something for protection.
He turned and propped his hands low on the sides of his tie-string pajamas. Shoes. Yes, that should do the trick. Newspaper editor bludgeons intruder with wing tips.
Marcy tossed the covers aside and hopped out of bed. Wait! My iron. You can take my iron. It weighs a ton. She padded to the wardrobe and hefted a cast-iron appliance off the shelf. She lugged it to where he stood watching her, a half smile twitching on his lips. Here, take it. And hurry, will you? He could be gone by now.
He snatched the iron from her hands. And that would be a good thing, right? He turned on his heel and lumbered down the hall, stifling a yawn as he descended the steps.
Be careful, Marcy whispered from the top of the stairs, looking more like a little girl than a mother of six. Her golden hair spilled down the front of her flannel nightgown as she stood, barefoot and shivering. He waved her back and moved into the parlor, noting that Blarney wasn t curled up on his usual spot in the foyer.
Patrick stopped. Was that a noise? A chair scraping? He tightened his hold on the iron while the hairs bristled on the back of his neck. He spied the shaft of light seeping through the bottom of the kitchen door and sucked in a deep breath. Heart pounding in his chest, he tiptoed to the swinging door and pushed just enough to peek inside.
A husky laugh bubbled in his throat. He heaved the door wide, pinning it open with the iron. I trust this means you ve made up your mind?
Father! Faith jerked out of Collin s embrace while Blarney darted to the door and speared a wet nose into Patrick s free hand. His daughter faltered back several steps and pressed a palm to her cheek. Her face was as crimson as the bowl of cranberries on the table. I . . . I was just giving Collin Thanksgiving leftovers.
Patrick smiled. Yes, I can see . . . starting with dessert, were you?
Patrick, who is it? Marcy s frantic whisper carried from the top of the stairs and he grinned, turning to call over his shoulder. It s Faith, Marcy, getting a bite to eat. Go back to bed. I ll be right up.
Collin took a step forward. His face was ruddy with embarrassment despite the grin on his lips. Mr. O Connor, I can t tell you how happy I am to see you again. When I d heard you were killed in the war . . . His voice broke and he quickly cleared it, his eyes moist. He straightened his shoulders. Well, when my mother told me you were alive, I hitched a ride any way I could just to get here from New York. He took another step and held out his hand. Sir, despite the fact that you could take me to task for kissing your daughter, I thank God you re alive.
Patrick grinned and pulled him into a tight hug. He closed his eyes to ward off tears of his own at holding this man who was more like a son. He pulled away and waved the iron at Collin s chest. So, the chest wound all healed up? Good as new, despite the war?
Collin smiled and tucked an arm around Faith. Better than new, Mr. O Connor. You might say I m a new man.
So I ve heard, Patrick said, scratching his forehead with Marcy s iron.
Collin stifled a grin. Uh, sir, did we wake you up . . . or were you catching up on your ironing?
Patrick chuckled and set the iron on the table. Marcy s idea, I m afraid. She s a light sleeper. He reached over and popped a piece of turkey in his mouth. So, Collin, you haven t answered my question. Have you made up your mind?
Collin glanced down at Faith and swallowed hard. Yes, sir, I have. I m in love with Faith. I want to marry her.
Patrick assessed the soft blush on his daughter s cheeks as she gazed up at the man who had once been engaged to her sister. Her eyes shimmered with joy, and Patrick had never seen her so happy. He snatched another piece of turkey. And Charity? You ve discussed all of this with her, I suppose? As your former fianc e, she has a right to know of your intentions with her sister.
Yes, sir, I agree. I wrote her immediately before I came home from the war.
And she s fine with it? No heartbreak? Patrick chewed slowly, studying the pair through cautious eyes.
No, sir, no heartbreak, I can assure you. Actually, she was more than fine with it. As I told Faith, it seems she has a new love interest.
Patrick stopped chewing. A new love interest? Who in blazes could that be?
Collin and Faith exchanged looks before Faith took a deep breath. Father, we think she s after Mitch.
Patrick blinked. Your Mitch?
Collin s lips pulled into a scowl, and Faith squeezed his hand. Father, please, we re not engaged anymore, so he s no longer my Mitch. And yes, we think he s the one Charity s after.
Saints alive, the man is practically old enough to be her father! And after the stunt she pulled in Dublin, trying to break you and Mitch up, does he even like her?
Faith bit her lip and glanced up at Collin. I don t think so. But you know Charity. Once she gets an idea in her head, it s there to stay.
Yes, yes, I know Charity. Patrick exhaled a weary breath. Faith, put some coffee on, will you? Then you let that man sit down and eat. I suspect your mother won t be able to sleep any more than I will, so we may as well talk. We ve got a lot of praying to do-about your plans for the future, your wedding, and your wayward sister in Dublin.
Faith grinned and scooted to the stove to make coffee. Yes, sir. Want a sandwich too?
May as well. Looks to be a long day, and I m going to need all the energy I can get. Patrick started to leave, then turned with his hand braced on the door. He squinted at Collin. You re home to stay, I hope? No more New York?
Collin shot him a grin and reached for a hefty drumstick. Yes, sir, home to stay. I hope that s good news. Except for your grocery bill.
Patrick chuckled and pushed through the kitchen door. Thank you, Lord, for bringing that boy home safe and sound. With a bounce in his step, he mou