Unlikely Hero. Marta Perry
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?”
“I’m counseling Ted.” There was a thread of defensiveness in his voice.
She didn’t know where to hit first. “You’re counseling the abuser. Don’t you think that’s a conflict? You can’t help both of them.”
“They both need help.”
“Ted is an abuser.”
“Ted is also a troubled kid who needs my help. I may not like what he’s done, but that doesn’t mean I can turn my back on him. My ministry extends to Ted, too.”
“Your ministry.” She threw the words at him. “What kind of ministry is that? I suppose you think they ought to whitewash everything and get married, just to do the proper thing.”
If her words hurt him, he didn’t show it. “No, I don’t think any such thing. You know that.”
She did, but she wouldn’t admit it, not when he’d let her down so badly. “You’re the one who got me involved with helping Stacy. And all the time you were undercutting what I was doing.”
“No, I wasn’t.” He reached toward her, and she drew back. His hands dropped instantly. “I wouldn’t do anything to harm the good you’re doing with Stacy.”
The pounding in her head had reached mammoth proportions. She’d like to believe him, but she couldn’t. And not just because of her own experience.
“That’s not true, Brendan. It can’t be.” The words tasted bitter. “Because if you really believed that, you’d have told me what you were doing.”
He stared at her, the color of his eyes almost black. He didn’t have an answer. He couldn’t, because there wasn’t one.
The closeness she’d felt such a short time ago was gone entirely now, replaced by a chasm. Wide and deep and dark.
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