Faith closed her eyes, but not before a single tear managed to escape. Nathan, she understood. After all, she had been the one to see things that weren’t there. But her family? Your parents were supposed to love you no matter what. Weren’t they?
She certainly loved her son, more than anything. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could ever say, that would change that. She would always be there for him, no matter what. Even if she had the chance to go back and change things, she wouldn’t, because if she did, she wouldn’t have Matt.
And, despite the circumstances, she had loved her baby from the very moment she realized she was pregnant. It had been a source of great contention between her and her father. When she refused to consider giving up her baby, he had reminded her of one of his favorite Biblical passages – where God commanded Abraham to offer his only son as a sacrifice. It was the right thing to do, he insisted. Penance for her sins. Proof of her devotion.
She’d said no then, and she’d say it again today. She offered a quick prayer of apology to God. She knew that if she was ever given the choice between helping her son and obeying the rules of the church, unlike her parents, she would pick her son every time. Somehow, she believed God understood that and loved her anyway, sins and all. How could she do any less for her child?
But what about Kieran? Did she love him?
Yes, of course she did. What she had felt – or thought she had felt – for Nathan all those years ago was nothing compared to what she felt for Kieran now, although the thought of Nathan still brought a lance of pain to her chest. Time and maturity had dulled it, but enough remained to haunt her and make her wonder if she would ever truly get past the hurt and humiliation of Nathan’s rejection and outright denial that the baby she’d carried was his.
Did she believe that Kieran loved her? If she was truthful, yes. It made no sense to her why he would, but she believed that he did.
So what was the problem? Why wasn’t her heart singing in joy instead of cautiously peering around the corner, scared of what might happen next?
You know why, that little voice said inside her. Because eventually he’s going to figure out that you’re not good enough for him. Nathan’s rejection had been difficult. Her family’s casting out, even more so. But if she gave her heart fully to Kieran and he decided one day that he no longer wanted it, it would destroy her.
Even now, the very thought of it manifested as a sharp physical ache deep in her chest. She needed something – anything – to distract her from it.
“Kieran,” she whispered quietly, even though she sensed he was every bit as awake as she was. She’d replayed the entire day over in her mind, not wanting to forget a single moment of it. It was then that she realized that while Kieran had spoken of his brothers, his father, his sisters-in-law, cousins, nieces, and nephews, he had never once mentioned his mother. Somehow, she sensed it was a significant omission.
“Hmmmm?”
“Tell me about your mother.”
Right away she knew she had been right; this was a sensitive topic for him. His arm flexed, holding her tighter, squeezing as if she was a life-sized teddy bear. Faith didn’t mind; it made her feel cherished. If holding her comforted him, all the better.
“She’s been gone a long time,” Kieran said quietly.
“She passed?”
Faith tried to turn around to see his face, but Kieran kept her where she was, resting his chin on her head. She settled against him and stroked his arm. If it was easier for him this way, so be it. The idea of taking care of this man, of doing anything for him, really, was appealing on a level that scared her.
“I don’t remember much. More feelings than actual memories, if that makes any sense.”
It did. Images faded, but the memories of how someone made you feel never did. They were so much more powerful than fleeting, tactile impressions, encompassing more than a single sense or two. A perfect example of that was that no matter what happened, Faith would never forget how she felt at that very moment, safe and warm in Kieran’s arms.
“How old were you?”
“Almost six.” Deep in her chest, her heart ached for him as an image of Kieran as a little boy rose in her mind. A sweet, caring child who lost his mother.
“What happened?”
“Pneumonia,” he said so softly she could barely hear him, despite the fact that he was so close she could feel his breath caressing her cheek. “It was a bad winter. Everyone was sick – my dad, all my brothers, me. She took care of all of us. None of us realized that she was sick, too. Not until it was too late.”
“I’m so sorry, Kieran.” Faith suddenly had a greater understanding of why Kieran had been so adamant about staying around and helping her, hovering over her like a mother hen when she just had a case of the flu.
“Thank you.” He squeezed her a little tighter. “I see how you are with Matt, and it reminds me of how she used to make me feel. Loved. Safe. Adored.”