7

EARLY-MORNING STEAM rose off the sidewalk to greet Adam as he trudged down Park Avenue, the collar of his jacket pulled up against the slight chill in the air. He turned onto 11th Street, peering from beneath the brim of his cap at the various buildings he passed. Finding a church shouldn’t be too difficult, though Adam wasn’t entirely sure what John’s church would look like. Much different from St. Patrick’s Cathedral, he imagined.

At the break of dawn, Adam had gathered his few possessions and, not wishing to awaken his mother at that hour, had left a note for her with the housekeeper. Perhaps his actions had been cowardly, but he couldn’t bear to face Mama until he had a new plan in place for his life. Not to mention he hadn’t wished to cross paths with his father again. So Adam had taken the earliest train from Long Island into the city and walked in the direction of John’s church.

Adam hiked several more blocks until he came to the address John McNabb had made him commit to memory and then slowed to a stop in front of the Shepherd of Good Hope Church. This early in the morning, the gray stone building appeared deserted, and for the first time since leaving Irish Meadows, Adam’s courage faltered. What was he thinking, coming to this holy place? Surely the walls would shake and crumble with outrage should he step inside. Yet how else would he find John?

A soft mist drizzled down from the leaden clouds. Adam shivered and blew on his cold fingers, shifting his satchel to his other hand. He climbed the steps and tried the front door, only to find it locked. The information carved on a wooden sign indicated the first service started at 8:30 in the morning. Surely John would open the church before then. Adam would simply walk around the block a few times until he noticed evidence of activity inside.

On his second time around, he was gratified to spy a light shining through the side windows of the church. Adam squared his shoulders and climbed the stairs again. This time, under his stiff fingers, the latch gave way and the door creaked open.

Adam froze. Would the sexton appear and demand he leave? When no movement sounded, he continued through another set of doors into the main worship area.

At the front of the room, a tall man placed a Bible on the lectern. When he lifted his head, he caught sight of Adam. “Can I help you, sir?”

Adam stepped into the open. “Hello, John.”

Shock, then pleasure, flitted across the man’s features. “Adam? Is that you?” He walked briskly down the main aisle of the church, reaching out to give Adam a hearty handshake. “I hadn’t expected to see you so soon. Everything’s all right, I hope?” His brow furrowed, creating wrinkles on his prominent forehead.

“Could be better. Do you have a few minutes to talk? I know it’s your busiest day . . .”

“Of course, of course. Come back to the rectory and have a cup of coffee.”

“I could use one. Thanks.”

He followed John out the side door and across a narrow walkway to a small brick house. John opened the front door and motioned Adam to follow him in.

Children’s voices and the clatter of dishes met Adam’s ears. He hesitated on the threshold. “Your wife won’t mind?”

“Not at all. Come and meet my family.”

The man’s simple acceptance—taking a criminal into his home to meet his wife and children—humbled Adam.

During his prison visits, John had quoted Bible verses and spoken of his convictions, but now Adam saw that John’s words weren’t mere utterances to sway a fallen sheep. This man lived his faith.

Adam tugged off his cap, set his bag on the mat, and entered the homey kitchen.

“Anne, we have a guest. This is Adam O’Leary. Adam, this is my wife and our sons, David and Michael.”

An attractive, brown-haired woman moved away from the sink to smile at Adam. “Nice to meet you, Mr. O’Leary.” She laid a hand on the shoulder of the younger boy at the table, who appeared to be about four or five.

“You, too, Mrs. McNabb. I’m sorry to disturb your breakfast.” He glanced at the cast-iron frying pan on the stove, where the enticing aroma matched the sizzle from the pan.

“Nonsense. You must join us.” She removed the bacon and brought the refilled platter to the table.

Before he could protest, John pulled out one of the ladder-back chairs for Adam. “Have a seat, and I’ll get that coffee.”

Adam sat down and, mindful of the boys’ curious stares, tried to soften his features, fearing his scowling countenance might frighten them.

John set two steaming mugs of coffee on the table and gave his wife a pointed look.

She nodded. “Boys, come along and get dressed for church.” She smiled at Adam. “We’ll give you time to talk. There are biscuits and jam to go with the bacon.”

John kissed his wife’s cheek. “Thank you, honey.”

Adam remained silent while John served two plates of food and took a seat across from him.

“So how can I help?” John said quietly.

Adam shoveled a bite of bacon into his mouth and chewed before answering. “Things didn’t work out with my father. I lasted a week as a stable hand before he accused me . . . of inappropriate behavior. I had to leave.”

John set down his fork and shook his head. “I wish I could say I’m surprised. The unfortunate truth is that you’re going to have to deal with society’s prejudices. It will take time to prove your trustworthiness and earn back people’s respect. Just remember God is with you, no matter how others treat you.”

Simply listening to the man speak in his calm, straightforward manner brought a measure of peace to Adam’s soul. It called to mind the wonderful talks they’d shared when John had visited him in prison. His simple acceptance and nonjudgmental attitude had drawn Adam to him and slowly awakened Adam’s faith. A faith that was now being tested.

“Did you take my advice and have that talk with your father?”

Adam swallowed some biscuit. “Not exactly.”

John took a drink of his coffee, eyes steady over the rim of his cup, waiting for Adam to explain.

“I was hoping to prove myself on the job first, and then when the time was right, broach the topic.”

John nodded. “I can understand wanting to work your way up to that particular conversation.” He set his mug on the table. “So what are you going to do now?”

Adam’s throat went dry. He gulped down a quick sip of scalding black coffee. “That’s why I’m here. I was hoping since you work with inmates, you might have some advice as to where to start.” He couldn’t help the frustration that seeped into his voice.

John slathered jam onto a biscuit. “Let me talk to a few men in the congregation. See if any of them needs help or knows of anyone who does.”

“I’ll do any type of manual labor,” Adam said quietly. “Nothing is too menial.”

“Do you have a place to stay in the meantime?”

“Not yet.”

John frowned. “Don’t you have a sister here in the city?”

“I do. But after what happened yesterday, I know I wouldn’t be welcome.” From the way Rylan had practically dragged Maggie away from him, Adam suspected he wouldn’t want him anywhere near his wife, either.

John released a soft sigh. “I wish I could offer to take you in. Though my wife is a tolerant woman, I’m afraid she’d never agree to it, even if we had the space.”

“I understand.” Adam finished the last piece of bacon and pushed his chair back. “Don’t worry. I’ll find somewhere to sleep.”

John rose, as well. “There is a storage room in the church basement. It’s not much, but I could set up a cot for you there.”

Adam straightened his shoulders. “Only if I can work in exchange for the room. I won’t accept charity.”

John looked ready to argue with him, but then nodded. “All right, we could always use help with repairs around the church.”

Though Adam realized John was likely inventing jobs to save Adam’s pride, he appreciated the man’s offer. “Very well.”

In the hallway, a clock chimed the hour. John moved to take his plate to the sink. “We can discuss all this later. Right now I must get ready for the service.” He moved toward the door. “Will I see you in church?” The question was gentle, no coercion involved.

Adam hesitated. Was he ready to go back to church? To face people’s censure, knowing others would not be as accepting as John?

“Not today. But one Sunday soon, I promise.” Adam pulled his cap from his jacket pocket and tugged it on. A measure of relief flooded his tense muscles. At least he had a place to lay his head. The rest would come in time. “Thank you, John. You have no idea how much your support means to me.”

“I’m happy to help in any way I can.” John walked Adam to the door. “But I will ask for one thing in return.”

“Name it.”

“Go and talk to your sister and brother-in-law. Clear the air with them as a first step toward making amends with your family.”

Adam hesitated, but finally nodded. “You’re right. I owe Colleen a long-overdue apology.” He opened the door, then faced the clergyman. “I thank you, John, for your hospitality and your help. I won’t let you down.”

Maggie straightened the quilt on her side of the bed she shared with Delia and crossed the wooden floor, careful not to awaken the sleeping child. Out in the hall, she huffed out a small sigh. Between her encounter with Neill the other day and last night’s discovery about Adam, Maggie felt more than a little unsettled.

She’d decided to say nothing to Gabe and Rylan about Neill, knowing they would both overreact to the situation, and in doing so, would severely restrict Maggie’s freedom. Plus, Maggie wanted to spare Gabe the knowledge that their trip to America might have been for nothing. Not only had Neill not accepted the demise of their relationship, he’d turned around and followed her here. She still couldn’t quite grasp the enormity of his actions. Back home, Neill watched every penny he spent and funneled most of his earnings back into the family pub. How he’d come up with the money for his passage across the ocean, she had no idea. She only prayed that Neill would soon realize that Maggie had no intention of resuming their engagement and head back to Ireland. A small voice inside her, however, told her he might not be finished trying to change her mind.

The unbidden image of Adam O’Leary intruded upon her thoughts, begging a comparison between the two men. Though not handsome in a classical way like Neill, Adam exuded a masculine ruggedness that Maggie found riveting. The hard planes of his face, shadowed by a neatly trimmed auburn beard, told of unspoken hardships—a weariness of the world, so to speak. And now she understood why. He’d endured time in prison.

By all rights, Maggie should be repulsed by a common criminal, a man who resorted to illegal methods to achieve an end. Yet her soul ached for him. After her two encounters with him, she simply couldn’t perceive Adam as evil. Above all else, Maggie prided herself on her intuition about people, and rarely had she been mistaken. Her instincts told her that Adam O’Leary was a good man.

As she descended the narrow staircase to the kitchen, Maggie decided she would ask Colleen more about her mysterious brother as soon as the opportunity arose.

She found her sister-in-law at the stove, stirring a big pot. Dirty dishes on the table told Maggie that some of the family had already enjoyed the porridge Colleen was tending.

“Am I late for breakfast?”

Colleen turned to smile, her bright hair gathered in a roll at the nape of her neck. “Not at all. We were up early this morning. Rylan and Gabe went to check on things at the orphanage before church.” Colleen ladled oatmeal into a bowl. “There’s milk and honey on the table.”

“Thank you. Have you eaten?”

“I have, but I’ll join you for tea.” She carried the teapot to the table and poured two cups.

Maggie sat and took a mouthful of oatmeal. Her stomach churned with nerves as she wondered how to broach the topic with Colleen. From all accounts, her brother was a sore subject in the family. Maggie would need to tread with caution.

“Remember the strange man I caught watching the children at the orphanage a few days back?”

Colleen frowned. “Yes.”

Maggie paused. “Turns out that man was Adam.”

Colleen’s gaze widened. “It was?”

“Yes. I recognized him the moment I saw him in your family’s barn, although I didn’t know he was your brother.” She poured a little milk into her tea. “Now I understand the longing on his face.”

Colleen set down her cup with a thump and bit her lower lip in an obvious attempt to contain her emotions.

Maggie reined in her impatience at wanting to blurt out a hundred questions at once and waited while Colleen dabbed the corner of her apron to her eyes.

“Were you and Adam close as children?”

“Very close.” Colleen gave a wan smile. “You might say Adam and I were the black sheep of the family. Before I met Rylan, I was quite a schemer and”—she lowered her gaze to the table—“not the most scrupulous of girls. Rylan changed all that.”

“I’m sure you weren’t as bad as you imply. Otherwise you wouldn’t have captured my brother’s heart.”

A soft look stole over Colleen’s features. “He saw the good beneath the bad.”

Funny that Maggie sensed the same about Adam. Wisely, she held that thought back. “And Adam?” she asked gently. “What set him on a path to prison?”

Colleen shook her head and sighed. “Adam and Daddy never got along, and things got worse when Daddy took Gil in as his ward. Gil shared Daddy’s love of horses in a way Adam never did. Adam became . . . resentful of Daddy’s preference for Gil over him.”

Maggie stiffened on her chair, incensed on Adam’s behalf. “How could a father favor another child over his own flesh and blood? That doesn’t make sense.”

Colleen stirred a spoon of honey into her tea. “To be fair, Adam made it hard—always getting into trouble at school, avoiding his chores, pulling tricks on Gil and Danny.”

“Who’s Danny?”

A shadow of sadness dulled Colleen’s vivid blue-violet eyes, making Maggie wish she’d held her tongue.

“Danny was our younger brother. He drowned when he was eight. His death only complicated matters, since Daddy blamed Adam for the accident.” Colleen clamped her lips together as if to hold back any further comments.

“I’m so sorry. How did your poor mother cope with such a tragedy?”

“She took it very hard, but Mama’s a strong woman.” Colleen sighed. “The one thing she couldn’t do, however, was fix Daddy and Adam’s relationship.”

Maggie swirled the oatmeal in her bowl with her spoon, not quite brave enough to look at Colleen with her next question. “How did Adam end up in jail?” She hated to press the issue, but she needed to know.

Colleen swiped at her damp cheeks and pushed away from the table, chair legs scraping. “Gambling.” The terse word echoed in the silence of the kitchen. “And associating with gangsters. Adam provided inside knowledge of Daddy’s clients and their horses to a group of thugs involved in backroom betting.” She moved to the counter and began to scrub the sink, her hands flying with hard, fast jerks.

Gambling? It didn’t sound like such a terrible thing to Maggie. Gambling was a common activity in the pubs back home. Even some of the constables bet on a game of football or a horse race now and then.

“I’m very sorry for all the sorrows your family has had to endure. I hope I haven’t offended you by prying.”

“Of course not, Maggie. We’re family.” Colleen stopped scouring and wiped her hands on a towel. “Besides, I think it only fair to warn you about Adam. You should know that he’s fallen far away from the moral upbringing of his youth. I don’t know if he’ll ever be accepted back into our family again.” She smoothed a hand over her dress. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go and awaken Delia.”

The sorrow on Colleen’s lovely face as she left the kitchen was enough to make Maggie regret bringing up the topic at all. She stirred the lumpy mess of oatmeal in her bowl, her appetite now vanished, and let out a sigh.

Colleen had made herself quite clear on the topic of her brother. No matter how sorry Maggie felt for Adam, he was not to be trusted.

She needed to put the man out of her thoughts for good.

Adam mounted the steps of the stylish brownstone and knocked on the door. Nervous perspiration gathered between his shoulder blades. He tugged off his cap and waited for either his sister or Rylan to answer the door, hoping they hadn’t already left for church.

He knocked a second time, half relieved when no one appeared, and was about to slink away when the squeak of the door stopped him.

A small blond girl stood staring at him with frank blue eyes. “Who are you?”

“My name is Adam O’Leary. I’m looking for Colleen . . . ah, Mrs. Montgomery.”

She cocked her head to one side, contemplating him. “My Mama used to be Miss O’Leary. Are you related to her?”

Adam blinked. He’d only been away for three years. How could Colleen have a daughter this age? Then he remembered the adopted child Colleen had mentioned in her letters.

“Colleen is my sister,” he answered carefully. “Is she home?”

“Delia, who’s at the door?” A feminine voice echoed down the corridor.

“It’s your brother.”

The childish simplicity of her statement struck a soft chord in Adam’s heart. Would Colleen allow him in, or would her Irish temper flare and leave him on the end of a good tongue-lashing?

Colleen opened the door wider and stood staring. “Adam?”

He attempted a smile. “Hello, Colleen. You’re looking well.” In the years since he’d seen her, she’d matured into a beautiful woman.

“What are you doing here?” She scanned the street behind him, as if a gang of hooligans would jump out at her.

“May I come in? I’d like to speak with you if you have a moment.”

She hesitated, placing her hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“It won’t take long, I promise. Then I’ll leave you in peace.”

She gave a small sigh. “All right. Come in.”

When he crossed the threshold, she closed the door behind them.

“Adam, this is our daughter, Delia. Delia, this is . . . your Uncle Adam.” The slight catch in Colleen’s voice gave away the emotions she was trying to hide.

“Hello, Delia. It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small bow to the girl, who giggled.

“I have lots of uncles now.”

“Delia, we’ll be leaving for church in ten minutes. Run up and change into your good dress.”

“Yes, Mama.” The girl gave him one last look and scampered off.

“Come into the parlor. As you heard, we don’t have much time.”

Sorrow threaded through Adam’s chest. There would be no warm hugs, no words of welcome from his sister. At least she’d agreed to hear him out. He could be grateful for that much.

Adam followed her into the cozy sitting room, so different from the elegant parlor at Irish Meadows but just as appealing in its own way. They each took a seat on opposite ends of a camel-hair sofa.

He curled his fingers over the wooden armrest. “So you have a daughter?”

She nodded, smiling. “We adopted Delia from the orphanage. She’s very special to us.”

“I can see that. I bet she gives you a run for your money.”

Colleen’s lips twitched, and for a brief second, a familiar twinkle of mischief glimmered in her eyes. “That is truer than you know.”

He laughed, but immediately sobered. “I’ll get right to the point of my visit. I came to apologize for any problems I may have caused last night. I had no idea—”

“It’s all right, Adam. Maggie explained how she ended up with you in the barn. It wasn’t your fault.”

“That’s kind of you to say. But truth be told, I should have sent her right back to the house. I hope she suffered no . . . repercussions?”

“Other than Rylan’s scolding, no. Her reputation is intact.”

“Thank goodness.” He leaned forward over his knees, urgency making him nervous. “I also came to apologize for any embarrassment my incarceration may have caused you.” He held her gaze. “More importantly, I wish to say how sorry I am for missing your wedding. I regret that more than you know.”

Moisture formed at the corners of her eyes. “I won’t deny it cast a cloud over the day, especially for Mama.”

“I am sorry, Colleen. For what it’s worth, I want you to know that I’ve changed, and I plan to work hard to make it up to the family.” He paused to draw a breath. “Heaven knows, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but if you feel so inclined, it would make me a very happy man.”

The clock on the mantel ticked out the seconds. At last, Colleen nodded. “I can forgive you, Adam. But I’m not the one whose forgiveness you need.” She gave him a direct look. “That would be Daddy.”

Adam held back a snort. “I doubt that will ever happen.”

She surprised him by reaching over and taking his hand. “Try, Adam, please. For our family’s sake, you need to make peace.”

A band of guilt threatened to choke Adam. If only it were that easy. But he had a strong suspicion that nothing he said or did would make any difference to James O’Leary. “I’ll do my best. But I can’t guarantee our father will listen.”

Colleen smiled. “I’ve missed you, Adam. More than I even realized.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” He cleared his throat and rose. “Well, I’d best let you get on with your day. Thank you for hearing me out.”

Her skirts swished as she stood. “I understand you won’t be working at Irish Meadows any longer. What will you do now?” A concerned frown marred her perfect complexion.

“The prison chaplain is going to see if anyone in his parish would be willing to hire me.” He attempted a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll find a job somewhere.”

They made their way to the narrow front entrance.

“Wait.” Colleen put a hand on his arm to stop him. “The caretaker at the orphanage is getting on in years and can’t keep up with all the work anymore. Maybe Rylan would—”

He squeezed her arm to stop her. “I appreciate your offer, but the last thing I want is to cause problems between you and your husband.”

Sadness stole the shine from her eyes. Her silence told him she couldn’t dispute his words. “How will I reach you if I need to?”

“Through Reverend John McNabb at the Shepherd of Good Hope Church. Take good care, Colleen.”

She surprised him again when she reached out to gather him in a hug, and he had to fight to keep his emotions contained. As he stood back, his gaze moved to the hall behind them.

Maggie stood as though frozen, her hand on the newel post of the staircase.

Delia ran past her, tiny feet thudding on the wooden floor. “Are you coming to church with us, Uncle Adam?”

Adam couldn’t tear his gaze from Maggie’s stricken face. “I can’t today, sweetheart. Maybe another time.”

His stomach twisted as he forced his attention away from Maggie’s haunted eyes. What was she thinking? Did she hate him—now that she knew him to be a criminal?

Adam shoved his cap on his head, gave Colleen a quick nod, and pushed out into the street. But no matter how fast he walked, he doubted he’d be able to banish Maggie’s look of anguish from his mind any time soon.