A Passion Redeemed (50 page)

She released her frustration in one telling breath. "Okay, you win. I'll do it God's way, not mine. Satisfied?"

"Nope. You can't. You're not capable."

"What do you mean I can't?" She rose up in her chair, ready to take him on.

He grinned. "I mean you haven't made him Lord of your life. Oh, you've danced around it plenty this last month, digging into the Bible, praying more, and talking about doing things his way, but the truth of the matter is, you've never invited him in."

"What are you talking about, 'invited him in'?"

He leaned back and studied her for a moment, then took a deep breath and planted his arms on the table. "I mean you've never given your life to him, Charity. Not completely. Never made the decision to live for him instead of yourself. You know, no more doing things your way, out of selfish motivation?" He hiked a brow while a smile fidgeted on his lips. "You want God's blessings in your life? You have to obey him. Deuteronomy 30 in the flesh, my good friend. And there's only one way any human being can even hope to make an attempt at obeying him. And that's to make him Lord of their life."

"But how?"

"Invite him in, Jesus Christ, the Son of the Living God, to live in your heart and be the Savior of your soul. But there's a catch."

The breath stilled in her lungs. "What?" she whispered.

"You do things his way, not yours. You pray, you listen, and then you pray some more. You take one step at a time, with his Word as a lamp unto your feet. In everything you say, think, or do, you look to honor him, not yourself. You become a new creature in Christ Jesus, one who can finally say no to sin and yes to God." He leaned back and folded his arms, a grin surfacing on his lips. "And then, if I were you, I'd duck my head and look out."

She blinked. "Why?"

"Because the blessings of God are going to overtake you, Charity O'Connor, and you're going to find yourself overloaded with the desires of your heart."

She released a long, quivering breath, unaware she'd even been holding it. She leaned in and extended her hands. "I want it, Brady. I want everything you just said. Pray with me?"

A sheen of wetness glimmered in his eyes as he took her hands. "My pleasure." He bowed his head. "Lord, Charity has something to ask you. The gospel of John says that a godly Pharisee named Nicodemus once came to you in secret during the night. He wanted more, Lord, more of you. You told him that no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again. Lord, Charity wants to see your kingdom in her life. She wants you to change her, mold her, make her the woman you want her to be. Help her in her journey and please open her heart to you." He looked up and nodded.

Charity sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Okay, Lord. This is it, I guess, the official beginning of my walk with you. Come into my heart, Jesus, and be Lord of my life. Forgive me for my sins and help me to follow your precepts all the days of my life. Amen."

She opened her eyes and grinned. "Satisfied now?"

He squeezed her hand. "Almost, but not completely."

"Why not?" She dropped his hand on the table with a thud.

He grinned. "Your plan to win Mitch back. I want details. A plan of action."

She folded her hands on the table and looked up at the ceiling, plotting her strategy. "Well, once I manage to convince Father to let me go back," her eyes flicked to Brady's face to emphasize her point, "which will require heavy prayer since he's already said no, then I will simply go see Mitch and explain that I've turned over a new leaf. That I'm doing things God's way now and that he can trust me enough to marry me."

"What if he's already married?"

Nervousness bobbed in her throat. "He's not. Grandmother's letter contains the most recent information from Mrs. Lynch."

"What if he's engaged?"

She bit her lip. "Then, with the help of God, I'll try to convince him that he's marrying the wrong woman."

Brady assessed her through narrowed eyes. "What if he says no?"

She drew in a thick breath and lifted her chin. "Well, then I'll just continue with my plan to purchase a shop and pour myself into a career."

He guzzled more coffee, eyes fixed on hers. "No plan B? No attempt to seduce him?"

She looked away, avoiding his gaze. "No."

"Charity?"

Her tongue glided across her teeth in nervous habit. She looked up.

"Promise me."

She could feel her pulse pounding in her throat. "Don't make me do that, Brady."

He reached to take her hand, smothering it in his rough, calloused palm. "Charity, if you've learned anything this last month, I hope you've learned that the kind of love you crave comes from God. Sensual love entices-the taste of honey for the moment. But sin will turn it to ashes in your mouth. It will never make you happy, never sustain you."

"I know." Her voice was a whisper.

He squeezed her hand. "Promise me."

She hesitated, then lifted her chin. "I promise I'll try."

He smiled. "Okay, then I'll pray with you." He closed his eyes and calm assurance settled over his hard-sculpted features. "Father, this woman's given her heart to you. She's pursued your Word with a fervor beyond anything I ever expected. And your Word says you honor those who honor you. Lord, I'm asking that you honor Charity with favor, first with her parents, and then with Mitch. I pray that you strengthen her to do your will and not her own, and that you would bless her with the desire of her heart. But if Mitch isn't right for her, help her to realize that and let him go. And give her peace in the process. Thank you."

Charity opened her eyes and grinned. "Nobody prays like you, Brady. I swear your words travel straight to the ear of God on the wisp of an angel wing. Whenever you're done, my heart is flooded with peace." She cocked her head. "Why in the world aren't you married?"

He shook his head. "What is it with you O'Connor sisters? Preoccupied with my marital status. First Beth, then you."

Charity laughed, then paused. "She has a crush on you, you know."

He looked up, a faint tinge of color staining his cheeks. "Yeah, I know. It'll pass."

"I don't know. I fell in love with Collin at sixteen and would have married him if it hadn't been for Faith."

He quickly rose to his feet and snatched the coffee cup in his hand. He dumped the black slime into the sink. "She's the little sister I never had, Charity. She'll grow up, fall in love with the son of a banker, and get married." He turned. "And I'll be Uncle Brady to her kids."

She stood up and smoothed her skirt. "And what about you? Any kids in your future?"

He chuckled and leaned against the counter, one leg casually cocked against the other. "Yeah, spiritual ones. You, Collin, and Beth."

She walked over to where he stood and smiled up at his hulking frame. "I'd hate to see you go to waste, John Brady. You'd make some lucky girl a very happy woman." She reached up to give him a tight hug. "I'm grateful for your friendship."

She felt his tentative embrace, then a powerful hug. "Not as grateful as I am, Charity. Your turnaround has brought meand God-a lot of joy."

"Excuse me ... am I interrupting something?" Collin stood motionless in the back door, not bothering to hide the scowl on his face. "I hope."

Charity spun around. A hand fluttered to her chest. "Goodness, Collin, you scared me! When did you get back?"

He strolled over and tossed a stack of papers on the table. "Apparently not soon enough."

Heat rushed into Charity's cheeks. She matched his glare with one of her own. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Giving her shoulder a quick squeeze, Brady sidled in front of her. "Rough day, Collin?"

Collin grunted, then postured his hands on his hips. "Not until now."

Charity peeked around Brady with her chin hiked up. "Why? Your mouth get you in trouble again?"

"Charity ..." Brady's tone held a warning.

"It's true, and he knows it. He shot his mouth off and ruined my chances with Mitch."

The gray of Collin's eyes cooled to pewter. "No, I think you get credit for that all by yourself."

"Collin, back off." He glanced over his shoulder. "Charity, go home. And study Matthew 18:22, forgiving seventy times seven. We'll discuss it later."

She huffed and backed out of the room, her lips bent in a stubborn crease. "Why don't you have him memorize it? Not that it would do any good. Good night, Brady." Her eyes flicked to Collin. "And good night, you mule." She slammed the front door.

Brady faced Collin, squaring off. "What exactly is your problem?"

"She's my problem, Brady, and yours. She was wrapped around you like a python."

"It was a hug, Collin. Between friends. Nothing more."

Collin jerked out a chair and sat down, resting an arm on the table. "Look, Brady, it's none of my business, I know, but I care what happens to you. When's the last time you've even been with a woman? I'm not saying you don't attract them, 'cause I know better. I've seen the stream of females in and out of this office, batting their eyes, hoping you'll give 'em a second look. But you've had no interest since I've known you, so you can't have much experience with how they think. Especially a woman like Charity. She's way out of your league, my friend. She'll rip your heart out like she did Mitch Dennehy."

Brady wheeled around to wash his cup in the sink. "She may be out of my league, Collin, but she's not out of God's. She's given her heart to him."

Collin grunted and hiked his boot up on a chair. "Yeah, if you can believe her."

With a clipped sigh,Brady dried the cup and put it back in the cabinet. He turned around slowly. "I do."

Collin studied him for a moment. "Did you know she intends to go after Dennehy? Return to Ireland as soon as she can?"

"I know. She told me. We prayed about it."

"She told you?"

"Yeah, Collin, she did. Because we're friends. Nothing more."

Exhaling, Collin rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Brady, Charity just makes me nervous. I don't want you wasting your time."

"I'm not wasting my time, or God's. My feelings for Charity are purely platonic."

Collin shook his head. "There's not another man alive that I would believe if he said that. But if I've learned anything, it's that you mean what you say. I trust you, my friend."

Brady reached for his apron and slipped it over his head. He tied it in back and smiled. "Don't trust me, Collin, trust God. For some reason, he's given me immunity when it comes to Charity. The state of her soul is my only concern." He headed to the front of the shop to clean a press.

"Don't disappoint me," Collin called after him.

Brady glanced at the soft beam of sunlight streaming across the room. Specks of dust swirled like the doubts in his brain. He shifted his gaze to the sky. His prayer exactly.

"Oh, my dear, let me look. Is it really you?" Bridget clasped Charity's arms as if to make sure she were real. Her blue eyes were misty with tears. "Saints above, I couldn't believe it when Marcy wrote you were coming. It's nothing short of a miracle that Patrick let you go."

Charity grinned and dropped her valise in the foyer, giving her grandmother a powerful squeeze. "I know. Father and I have gotten really close, Grandmother, so he was reluctant. But, in the end, he knew what I had to do, so he gave me his blessing." She inhaled the sweet scent of home, then released it with a satisfied sigh. "Providing, of course, that I visit each Christmas."

Bridget chuckled. "I knew there would be a catch."

Charity tugged on the sleeve of her sweater to pull it off. She flipped it on the rack by the door. "And speaking of what I have to do, any word from Mrs. Lynch?"

The tip of Bridget's tongue glazed her teeth. "Not much. Margaret says she hears him come in late every night."

"Is he still working long hours?"

"No, I don't think so." Bridget hesitated, as if measuring her words. "Margaret seems to think he's been seeing a lot of Kathleen."

Several lines creased Charity's brow. "They're not engaged, are they?"

"No. Or at least Margaret doesn't know about it. And although she hasn't seen much of him lately, they're close enough that she thinks she'd be the first to know."

Charity straightened her shoulders. "Good. Then he's fair game." She glanced in the parlor, then down the hall. "Emma's at work, I guess. How's Mima?"

"Well, if you had asked me that last week, I would have told you not so good.' But ever since she heard you were coming back, I do believe she's taken a turn for the better. Almost spry, I'd say."

Hurrying down the hall, Charity grinned over her shoulder. "So I'm good medicine, am I? Well, let's hope we can get Mr. Dennehy to take a hefty dose."

She peeked into the dim room. "Mima? Are you awake?"

Mima's translucent lids popped open and a grin crinkled her pale face. "As if I could sleep with all that racket. It's been somber as a tomb since you left, young lady. Three months is a long time. Get over here and give this old woman a hug."

Charity laughed and pressed herself against Mima's frail body, stroking her soft cheek with her hand. "You're feeling better, I understand."