style="font-size:15px;"> “Does that bother you?” She jumped at the chance to turn the subject toward him, but he just shook his head.
“This isn’t about me. It’s about Stacy. And the agreement you made.” He leaned toward her across the desk again, his eyes so intent they seemed to probe her soul.
She drew back, putting a few more inches between herself and that magnetic gaze. “I’m not a social worker. I can’t help her.”
“You don’t know that. For some reason, Stacy seems to relate to you.”
Because the girl sensed that Claire had once been where she was? Nonsense. She couldn’t possibly.
“That’s very flattering, but I’ve got my hands full already with my work and the wedding. I can’t take on anything else.”
“You said you would.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he had her, and they both knew it.
There was still a way out of this. If she told Brendan about her past, he’d trip all over himself apologizing for trying to involve her in something so painful to a person with her history.
She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t give him a reason to look at her with pity. Nobody got to pity her.
She came to a reluctant conclusion. “I just have to talk to her, right?”
He shrugged. “I think your conscience will tell you what to do from there.”
If he only knew. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Pastor. My conscience is pretty elastic after a number of years in the business world.”
“I trust you.”
Really, that smile of his ought to be outlawed.
“If I do this, you’re going to owe me big-time.”
“What do you want?”
“We both know that. You cooperate with my plans for the wedding.”
“Only if Nolie and Gabe agree. That’s the other part of our deal, remember?”
“Fine. They’ll agree.” She was confident she knew what Nolie wanted, and Gabe was so in love that he’d do anything that made Nolie happy.
“Then I guess you have a deal, Ms. Delany.” Brendan held out his hand, his face serious but with a smile lurking in those changeable eyes.
She put her hand in his, her apprehension stirring. That wave of warmth hit again. Being prepared didn’t seem to prevent it.
She had to catch her breath before she could speak evenly. “All right, a deal. When do you want me to get together with Stacy?”
“I told her you’d be at the church tonight around nine. Usually some of the kids stop by then, and that’ll make her feel safer.” He got off her desk. “And we’re having dinner with Gabe and Nolie at the Flanagan house at six. We can find out then what kind of wedding they want.”
She glared at him. “You were taking an awful lot for granted, weren’t you?”
“We both get what we want. What’s wrong with that?” He gave her an innocent look she didn’t buy.
“For a minister you’re something of an opportunist, you know that?”
He grinned. “For a businesswoman, you’re something of a do-gooder, Ms. Delany. Maybe we bring out the best in each other.”
“Or the worst.”
He headed for the door. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
Brendan had been trying to figure out Claire’s opinion of the Flanagan family throughout the whole meal, and he didn’t quite have it pegged yet. He forked a bite of his Aunt Siobhan’s excellent apple crumb pie into his mouth and watched while Claire parried Uncle Joe’s questions about the inner workings of Gray Enterprises.
Claire’s polish and sophistication would probably make her at home anywhere, but she definitely hadn’t wanted to attend this family dinner. She’d come, because he hadn’t given her much choice if she wanted his cooperation with the wedding, but she seemed to be doing a great job of resisting the famous Flanagan charm.
He glanced around the long oval table that had been the scene of countless family dinners over three generations of Flanagans. The crowd was smaller than usual tonight, out of deference to the fact that Gabe and Nolie were supposed to be having a quiet evening to plan their wedding.
Only Seth, the brother who came next after Gabe, sat at the table, coaxing his toddler son to try a bite of apple. Davy grinned, snatched the apple slice, and rubbed it through his fine, red-gold hair.
This had been home to Brendan for so long that he sometimes managed to forget his earlier life. Sometimes, but not for long. His father had been Uncle Joe’s brother, after all, and an innocent phrase or gesture could bring that past surging back.
Joe held center stage at the moment, as he so often did, while Siobhan watched him, quietly smiling. He’d turn soon to his favorite subject.
“And did you know that all the Flanagans were members of the Suffolk Fire Department, Ms. Delany?”
“I’ve heard something about that, yes.” Claire’s gaze met Brendan’s. “I guess Brendan broke the family tradition, didn’t he?”
“You’d think that, but you’d be wrong,” Joe said triumphantly. “Brendan might be a minister, but he’s also the chaplain of the fire department.”
Claire’s eyebrows lifted. “Yes, he told me. He’s talented, isn’t he?”
“That’s our Brendan. And he doesn’t just go through the motions. He’s a fully qualified firefighter, too. I’d count on him to take the hose in just as much as I would Gabe or Seth or Ryan.”
“Leave me out of it,” Gabe said. He smiled at Nolie, and the love that shone between them was so bright it hurt to look. “I’ve got another full-time job now.”
“And a good one it is, too,” Joe said quickly.
After an accident on the job left Gabe prone to seizures that ended his career, they’d all feared he’d never be himself again. Then Nolie and the service animals she trained had given him a new purpose in life.
Max, Gabe’s seizure alert dog, lay beside his chair. Gabe and Nolie were totally involved in expanding her services to give more people a fresh start.
They all owed a great deal to Nolie. Brendan wondered, not for the first time, at the strong bond between Nolie and Claire. They seemed such total opposites. Nolie was all warmth and caring, more comfortable in jeans working with her animals than anywhere else.
Claire didn’t look as if she ever wore anything as casual as jeans. Even the clothes she’d chosen for a simple family dinner, black slacks and cream silk shirt, declared that. Against the shirt, her hair was a helmet of burnished copper.
He’d
