Having Faith (16 page)

“The Callaghans are good people,” Brian said, grabbing a variety of bottles and tipping them into a glass with dizzying speed.  “A little intense sometimes, but good people.”

Faith didn’t know how she was supposed to respond to that, so she said nothing.  Brian tipped the mixture into a silver container, added some crushed ice, and shook it. 

“Lacie tells me you’re from Georgia,” he said, pouring the drink back into the glass.  She nodded.

“I was at Marietta for a while,” he told her.  “Hot as hell down there, and those swamps stink to high heaven sometimes, at least to a boy who grew up in these mountains.  Here, try this.” 

Faith eyed the concoction warily.  “Go on,” he coaxed.  She lifted the glass to her lips and took a tentative sip.  It was delicious.  She took another and realized her tongue and lips were tingling.  “What is this?”

“Secret family recipe.  We call it the ‘Virgin Slayer’.  Crafted by my great-grandfather on his wedding night to ease the fears of his bonnie bride.”

Her eyes grew into large silvery gray saucers as the first few sips sent the warm, tingly feeling down into other parts of her body.  “Really?”

“Oh, aye,” Brian grinned and winked.  “’Tis the curse of the McCain men to be so well-endowed as to cause the swooning of many a high-bred virgin lass.”

Faith couldn’t help it.  She giggled.  Brian’s eyes sparkled.  “See?  It’s working already.”

* * *

T
he photos took longer than expected.  Kieran looked to the shadows where he had left Faith, but he was unable to catch a glimpse of her.  The moment he was freed, he made a beeline for the spot, only to find it empty.  His heart fell.  He’d been so sure she’d wait for him.

The sound of laughter rang out from the patio, drawing his attention.  He blinked and looked again, sure that he was seeing things.  There, amidst a cheering circle of onlookers, Lacie’s brother Brian and Faith were executing a perfectly synchronized rendition of “Cotton Eyed Joe”.

Kieran could only gape in wonderment.  He’d seen Faith smile before, and heard her gentle laugh, but had never seen her kick back and simply enjoy herself with wild abandon like she appeared to be doing. What happened to the woman so ready to flee just a short time ago?  He was torn between being happy that she was having such a good time and being unhappy that she wasn’t having it with him.  It was the sheer intensity of his jealousy, however, that left him feeling winded.

“Oh, will you look at that,” Lacie’s mom said, coming up next to him and clasping her hands together with tears in her eyes.  “I haven’t seen Brian smile like that since he came back.  Faith must be an angel.” 

She was, Kieran thought with a rush of stark possessiveness.  But she was
his
angel. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Brian; he did.  He and his brothers had done their damnedest to pull him and what remained of his team out of Afghanistan a few months earlier.  He’d seen firsthand the kind of hell Brian had endured, knew that it would haunt him forever.  Begrudging him a few minutes of happiness made him feel like shit, but Faith was his
croie
.

As the song ended, Brian bowed low to Faith, and Faith offered a proper Southern curtsy in response.  Those gathered around cheered loudly, and it was only then that they seemed to realize they were the center of attention.  Faith turned a brilliant shade of pink.  When she looked up and saw Kieran, she made a beeline for him. 

The fact that she did assuaged most of the murderous thoughts he’d been having.

“I thought you told me you couldn’t dance,” he accused.  “That was wonderful!”

“That wasn’t really me,” she said, her face flushed and her eyes twinkling.  “That was the ‘Virgin Slayer’”.  When Kieran raised his brow in question, Faith explained Brian’s special drink and the dubious history behind its making.  Faith sucked in a breath when Kieran tightened his fingers around hers, and leaned down close to her ear. 

“Does that mean I’m going to get lucky tonight?” he asked in a husky whisper.

A noise – it sounded like a whimper - escaped her lips.  Kieran looked deeply into her eyes and her breath caught.  Kieran glanced down at where their hands were joined. 

“Oh, look,” he said with a roguish smile.  “I already did.”

––––––––

O
nce Matt started school at the end of August, Kieran didn’t get to see Faith every day anymore.  She had declared Matt’s school work a priority and his “job” and martial arts lessons secondary.  Kieran understood that, even agreed with it, but also knew that there was much more to Faith’s avoidance tactics than Matt’s grades. 

For Kieran, it was sheer torture, leading him to new levels of frustration, and he knew he had to do something.  His body, his heart, and his soul recognized her for what she was.  Being around Faith – seeing her pretty face, hearing her lovely voice, scenting her natural fragrance - had become a physical need for him.  While he was trying to be patient and understanding, hoping that Faith would eventually realize what he already knew, he was getting desperate.  He had to figure out something. 

Soon
.

“M
aybe I should, you know, hang around tonight,” Matt suggested, eyeing her with concern etched in his youthful features.  Faith sat at the kitchen table, fighting the urge to close her eyes and rest her head upon the smooth, cool surface.  She impatiently wiped at the persistent sheen of perspiration across her brow and shivered slightly beneath the three layers of flannel.

“Matt, don’t sneak up on me like that,” she chastised gently.  “And don’t be ridiculous.  You’ve been looking forward to this for two weeks.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he shrugged, pinning her with a look way too mature for a fourteen year old.

“Neither is this.”

Matt crossed his arms over his chest, just like she’d seen Kieran do when she wasn’t being completely honest.  She knew then that she must look even worse than she’d thought. 

“All I’m going to do is have some soup and make it an early night.  You’d give up an all-guys weekend at Jace’s cabin for that?” 

Jace and Matt had become fast friends, and the former had invited Matt up to his family’s cabin for their annual “male retreat” over the extended Labor Day holiday.  It was a great opportunity.  The group consisted of Jace’s dad and a couple of his uncles, several of whom were members of the Pine Ridge police force as well as voluntary firemen, Jace’s two brothers, a few cousins, and two or three additional friends from school with whom Matt got along well.  Up until about an hour ago, Matt had been very excited about the trip; it was practically all he’d talked about all week.   

And, since it was to take place the weekend after Matt’s birthday, Faith had agreed to let him go as part of his “present”.  They’d celebrated privately the night before with a special dinner and a small, homemade cake, but Faith knew this trip would be the best thing she could give him.

“You’re sick.”  Matt shifted, caught between what he wanted to do and what he felt he should do.  He was a good kid like that, and Faith felt a surge of motherly pride.  But there was no way she wanted him to give up this weekend for her.  The only way to get him to go was to convince him that she would be fine.

“So?  Everybody gets sick sometimes.  Like you said, it’s no big deal.  It’s not even a bad one.  A hot bath, extra rest, maybe some NyQuil, and I’ll be right as rain by the time you get back.”

“What if you need something?”

“I have everything I need,” she assured him.  “A brand new box of tissues, chicken soup in the freezer, half a box of Calgon and my fleecy pj’s waiting for me.  And if I do need anything, I’ll call Mrs. Campbell.  But I won’t.”

Matt shifted again, and Faith knew he was close.  He needed this, needed the chance to bond with guys his own age.  And she needed to rest.  If she knew Matt was away having a good time with his friends, she wouldn’t have to feel too guilty about not accomplishing anything around the house for a day or two. 

“Go.  Really. 
I’m fine
.”

The sound of a truck crunching along the gravel drive, followed closely by the pound of heavy teenage feet on the porch and the subsequent knock signaled the moment of truth.  Matt’s ride was here.

For good measure, Faith got up and walked to the door, though it took nearly every last bit of strength she had not to sway.  She discreetly used the sturdy doorframe to keep her upright. 

“Hi Jace,” she said in friendly greeting to the boy, offering a wave to Jace’s dad easing out of the massive King cab.  She turned to Matt, who was appraising her carefully, looking for a reason to stay.

“Go,” she coaxed.  Jace already had Matt’s bag and was loping back to the car.  “Have a great time.  And don’t worry so much.  I’m a big girl.”  She smiled.  Matt exhaled, still not looking sure, but nodded.  He was so close... 

“You’ve got enough clothes?  Underwear? Socks?”

“
Mom.
”

“Phone?  Cash?  Toothbrush?”

“
Mom
.”

“Right,” she grinned as Matt’s focus was taken off of her and he shot his friends a somewhat embarrassed smile.  Mild humiliation in the form of an overprotective mom – a true classic - worked every time.  Faith exhaled in triumph when Matt finally nodded, leaned in to give her a quick peck on the cheek, then jogged to the truck.

Karl, Jace’s dad, chuckled.  “Don’t worry, Faith.  He’s in good hands.”

She nodded.  “I know.  Mother’s privilege.”

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, his expression growing concerned when he noticed how pale she was.

“Yeah, I just picked up a little cold.”

“There’s some really nasty stuff going around.”

“Yeah, but this is nothing.”

Like Matt, Karl looked unconvinced.  “If you need anything, give Carole a call, ok?  She’ll be going stir crazy with an empty house all weekend.”

Somehow Faith doubted that.  The woman was probably already pouring herself a glass of wine, sinking into a hot bubble bath, and picking up the latest romance novel.  “I will, thanks.”

She leaned against the doorframe and waved as the car backed up and made its way back up the drive.  The moment it was out of sight, Faith closed the door and slid down.  With her back to the wall, Faith closed her eyes and fell promptly asleep.

* * *

K
ieran turned away from the massive flat screen he wasn’t really watching anyway when his cell chimed, indicating a new text message.  Picking it up, he checked the number and looked at the text. 

K, u busy? 

Thought u were away.  Whats up?

Moms not answering. 

Without hesitation, Kieran pressed the pad of his large finger to the call icon.  Matt answered on the first ring.  “Talk to me.”

“Mom was sick when I left.  I didn’t want to go but she said she’d be fine.”

“Sick how?” Kieran asked, looking for his sneakers.

“Like a cold or a flu or something.  I texted her goodnight, just to, you know, check, but she’s not answering.”

“She probably just went to bed early.”

“Yeah, she said she was going to do that, but...”  Matt let the sentence hang.

“You want me to check on her?”  Kieran asked.  Without waiting for an answer, he pointed the remote at the bank of electronics and shut them all down with a quick tap of his thumb, then flicked off the lights, keys in hand.

A pause.  “Yeah.”

“You got it.  I’ll text you, let you know everything’s cool, ok?”

“Ok.  Thanks, K.”

Kieran was already out the door.

There weren’t any lights on when Kieran cruised up to the house, which was unusual.  Faith always kept the porch light on and at least one on inside.  He knocked softly, not receiving an answer.  Trying the door, he frowned when it turned easily in his hand. 

“Faith?” he called out.  A slight noise near his feet had him looking down.  Light from the dusk-to-dawn feature he’d installed on the garage flowed in, illuminating a figure on the floor.

Cursing softly, he bent down.  “Faith?  Faith, honey?  It’s Kieran.”  He touched her face, found it burning up with fever.

Her eyes fluttered open, and it took her awhile to focus.  “Kieran?  What are you doing here?”  Her eyes widened and filled with fear.  “Matt!?  Is everything okay?”

“Matt’s fine,” Kieran soothed.  “He was worried because you didn’t answer his texts.  He said you were sick.”

Relief washed over her and she slumped again.  “Just a cold,” she murmured.  “I guess I was too tired to make it to the bedroom,” she said sleepily.

Kieran lifted her into his arms, ignoring her weak protests.  “Don’t.  I’ll get you sick.”

“Hush, now,” he told her.  It was a testament to exactly how sick she was that she did exactly that.  Kieran tucked her against his chest, cursing again when he felt the heat of her skin burning into his neck.

He flicked on a small light before carrying her up the stairs, but it was unnecessary.  Kieran knew the layout of this house as well as he knew his own.  Still, he didn’t want to take any chances, not with Faith in his arms.

He flipped down the covers of Faith’s bed and set her down gently.  She insisted on visiting the bathroom; he put an arm around her waist and assisted her as far as the door.  Once she was inside and he heard the water running, he pulled out his phone.

First he texted Matt. 
Moms ok.  Sleeping.  Got it covered
.  Matt must have been waiting, because within seconds Kieran received a response: 
thx k.  i o u 1
. 

Then he dialed his brother.  “Mick.... Yeah, sorry to bother you...  Hey, Faith’s sick.... Fever, chills...  What should I do?... Uh huh...  Thanks, man.”

Michael told Kieran that Faith had probably contracted the flu that was making its way around, and that rest and fluids were the best form of treatment.  It was common sense, but Kieran didn’t always trust his when it came to Faith.  Michael had understood that all too well.  With a promise to call if things didn’t improve by the next day, Kieran disconnected the call, feeling a little better.

“Faith?  You okay?”  Kieran knocked on the bathroom door when she seemed to be in there an extraordinarily long amount of time.