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This was the second time he’d been forced to talk to Michael O’Fallen about his daughter, but this time it was more serious. This time he had to ask for her hand and hope and pray he left with his head still attached to his shoulders.
Gerritt steadied himself at the door and took a deep breath.
He also had to convince her father to make the wedding soon. Too much time would defeat his plan. That thought in mind, he strode in, displaying confidence that, frankly, he didn’t feel. “Mr. O’Fallen? May I talk with you?”
Michael looked up from the newspaper curled in his hand, his green eyes flickering, and Gerritt swallowed the bile rising in his throat. Michael waved him to a seat. Gerritt perched on the edge, feeling as if the world was about to explode. “It’s about Maire.”
This flattened the newspaper entirely to the table. Worry surfed over Michael’s features, and he rubbed one hand on the back of his neck.
“I know what’s wrong with her, and it’s my fault.”
Michael’s gaze focused sharp to his face. Uncomfortable, Gerritt wiggled in place. “I told you I didn’t know if I had feelings for her when the truth was I did. While you were gone, we were talking, and ... and I saw her like I’d never seen her before.”
This was not a lie, though her father would interpret it differently from the truth.
“She’s had feelings for me for a long time, something I think everyone knows, so when we talked like that I’m afraid I ...”
He clenched his hands into fists and willed himself forward. “I fell in love with her.”
Was that a lie? He cared for her. Why else would he do this? He sacrificed everything for her peace, and her family’s reputation, giving up his writing career, a rich future learning at a prestigious school.
Gerritt cleared his throat. “I’ve asked her to marry me.”
Gerritt had never seen Michael O’Fallen so disconcerted. He was generally a very self-secure man, unfazed by surprises, and able to handle whatever came his way. But his face was now a cross between confusion and pain. Gerritt gave him time to pull himself together and speak.
Michael cleared his throat. “I’m ... shocked.”
Gerritt acknowledged this with a nod. “I figured you would be, sir, and I’m sorry. But I didn’t know how else to say it without simply stating the truth.”
“I feel like I was blind and did not see this coming.”
Again, Gerritt bobbed his head. “You couldn’t, sir, because you weren’t here.”
“And ... and Maire?” Michael asked. “What did she say?”
“She’s accepted.” He smiled then, hoping it looked sincere. “We’re very happy, sir, and wish your blessing.”
Michael slumped in his chair, his head in his hands, and for a time, the only noise was his breathing. In and out. In and out. He raised his head.
“I know this seems sudden,” Gerritt said, “but if you think back, your own wedding was unusual. You and your wife didn’t know one another at all. How sudden was it when you knew you loved her?”
Michael’s smile seemed like a positive thing. “Point taken,” he replied. “But, Gerritt, this is my baby, you must understand that.”
“I do, sir, and I will take good care of her. I promise you that. But there is one other thing.” He swallowed hard. Here was the part that simply had to work out. Her father had to agree. “We’d like to be wed soon ... in two weeks.”
Michael coughed, his face turning red, one hand wrapped around his throat. “That’s ... soon. Why?”
Gerritt kept his gaze level. He’d face this. “Logic, sir.”
Michael’s brows drew together. “Logic?”
“Yes sir. We live in the same house, so if we’re engaged then people will think untoward things. Therefore, to prevent rumors, we should marry quickly.”
“I see you’ve thought this out. But, Gerritt, why would I agree to this? Why would I allow you to marry my daughter? You haven’t a job. You haven’t a home to provide for her. I haven’t heard her tell me how she feels about you. All of this comes at me out of nowhere, and marriage isn’t something to be entered lightly. I love Anne more than myself, but we have had to work through many things.”
Gerritt swallowed his nervousness. “I can answer all of those questions,” he said. “Allow me to marry her because she is dear to me. I’ll get a job. I’ve already spoken with the newspaper. Grace and Nick are moving to a larger place, so let us live there, and I will pay you rent. As to Maire’s feelings, I’m sure you will speak with her soon enough.” He paused to breathe. “I’m prepared to work through whatever lies in our way. This means a lot to me, sir. Please give your daughter the wedding she’s always wanted to the man she’s always wanted to be with.”
Michael’s gaze shifted to the ceiling, and silence again returned. Somewhere in the distance, he heard his mother’s steady hum. “This will set this house on its ear,” he said.
Gerritt didn’t reply, because the announcement coming in a few weeks would be much worse. Her father simply had no idea.
“Is it true that you’ve lost your mind?”
Gerritt scowled at Michael, annoyance fixed on his face. “I hardly think marriage means I’ve lost my mind.”
Michael laughed at that. “You’re dumber than I thought.” He tossed himself down on Gerritt’s bed. “Tell me the truth. What are you up to?”
“I’m not ‘up to’ anything. I recall your sister being very happy last I saw her, and your parents are agreed to it. My mother is beside herself. So where’s the problem?”
“The problem is,” Michael’s gaze intensified. “I know Gerritt Finnegan, and two weeks ago, he gave Maire no more thought than any other female on the planet. Yet now you’re in love?” He blew out a loud breath.
Gerritt glared at him. “You’re telling me that your sister isn’t beautiful enough to attract me?”
“Now, wait a minute. I never said that.”
“Or maybe you’re saying I’m not man enough to handle her?” He smirked at that remark.
Michael made a face. “I’ve never questioned your manliness. In fact, I believe I defended you more than once in the face of some horrible rumors.”
“Well, then, this will prove all those rumors false. Won’t it?”
“Unquestionably.” Michael fell silent. “You’re really going to do this, get a job, keep house, have children?”
Gerritt snorted and looked away. “Having children would be the fun part.” He hated the words the minute he said them, but at one glance, saw the remark had hit Michael true.
He had no intention on consummating their marriage. Maire didn’t want that, given her last encounter with a man. He would never do anything to take her back to that place of horror.
“Relax and trust your old friend to know what he’s doing,” Gerritt said. “Enjoy yourself. After all, you’ll get to sing.”
Michael grinned. “That’s something. Papa would cry. He’s a mess as it is, and I’ve never seen him like that.”
Gerritt forced himself to laugh. “You should have seen his face when I asked him. He almost choked.”
Michael didn’t reply right away, but fell back on the bed, folding his arms behind his head. “I don’t envy you doing that. I’d hate to ask him, so you get courage points from me. Hey ...” His eyes brightened. “This makes us brothers-in-law, and Jenny my ... what?”
Gerritt shrugged. “Trust you to think of yourself at a time like this.”
He smiled again, but it conflicted with his last words. He’d rather Michael think of himself any day than continue to ask so many unanswerable questions.
It was funny, but saying they wished to marry gave them an incredible amount of time alone. They entered a room together, only to have everyone leave. He took Maire’s hand and knowing looks passed through the group as they drifted away. Gerritt would have laughed except she was so blissfully happy, which made everyone believe he was the problem all along. She’d been pining for him, and he couldn’t see it.
Let them think that. He didn’t care.
Yet, all their time alone did have one advantage. They talked like they never had before. He found answers to questions he didn’t know he’d carried around and came to the conclusion he really had lived life with his head stuck in a book.
She knew so much about the running of the household. She told stories about her parents, her brother, even his family and himself, that he hadn’t heard or couldn’t remember, and she was gifted in telling them. He asked himself more than once where she had gotten this ability. From her father? Her mother? Maybe it was a combination of them both. But whatever the case, his life became less boring with her around to share it, and that became worth a great deal.
The wedding approached, and one certain thought niggled at his brain. He’d attended enough weddings to know they ended with a kiss, and he never wanted Maire to be uncomfortable or feel forced by his affections. That said, they had to make this good. No one could suspect their nuptials were anything other than what they appeared to be.
“You know I’ll have to kiss you. It’s part of the ceremony,” he said.
Maire looked over at him strangely, her lip caught between her teeth, her cheeks flushed. “Yes.”
“We have to make it look real. After all, it will be our wedding day.”
Her hand crossing over his, she entwined their fingers together. “I’ve missed you ... at night.”
He crooked a smile. So she didn’t want to talk about that. That was all right. They’d get through it when the time came.
“I’ve missed you too,” he said. Of all the things in his life, he never thought he would grow accustomed to, that was the biggest. His bed was large and empty without her.
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Two days, I’ll be Mrs. Gerritt Finnegan, and I’ll come back.”
Two days, he’ll be a husband with responsibilities and a child on the way. How long should they delay telling the others about the baby? He dismissed the question. They’d deal with that eventually. For now, it was him and her and a pleasant honeymoon. It would be nice to get away.
But two days later, Gerritt found he couldn’t keep himself quite so objective. Part of that came because of preparations for the wedding itself. The O’Fallens really knew how to throw a wedding. Even in such a short amount of time, they’d managed to pull off things he couldn’t fathom.
Rumors swirled around town of the thousands spent on clothing, flowers, and food, and every high society anybody from anyplace her father had ever sung hankered for an invite. Problem was, they weren’t getting one. Michael had always been intensely private, a fact Gerritt knew from living with the family for twenty years. He’d always been grateful, not caring for the limelight himself, but even more so now that it was his wedding day.
His hands dampened with sweat, his stomach churning, Gerritt contemplated the next few hours of his life. This was forever. This was a permanent seal on who he would be. There’d be no more writing, save what he did at the paper, no dreams of college or additional learning. His thirty day deadline had passed. This was Gerritt Finnegan, husband, provider, family man. This was him becoming part of the O’Fallens. He’d never found them intimidating before, but watching the family move into the church, it all hit him like a brick. There was no going back.
The music swelled and Gerritt met Michael’s gaze. Inhaling deep, he moved his gaze toward the sanctuary and prepared to see his bride.
“Don’t cry, Papa.” Maire wiped tears from her father’s cheeks, only to see more slide down to replace them. “I’m not disappearing, you know.”
He gave her a faltering smile, her face cradled in his hands. “Tabhartas ón Tiarna is ea an chlann; is tuarastal é toradh na broinne.” Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. Psalm 127:3.
She was blessed to have such a man as her father, a godly man, a man who wore his heart on his sleeve. Her throat thickened.
“I cannot give you away,” he said. “I can only share you.”
Tilting back her head, Maire gazed into his eyes. “That’s all I ask for. Mo ghrá thú.”
“Mo ghrá thú, a bhláth mo chroí,” he replied. I love you, flower of my heart.
He moved his hands to her shoulders. “Gerritt is a good man, but Maire, a good man isn’t always perfect. If you expect too much of him, he will fail.”
She wrinkled her brow. Why did he say this to her now? Did he doubt Gerritt? “I only expect him to love me, Papa.”
For a moment, her father simply stared at her. She longed to comfort him in some way, to help him see things would turn out right in the end.
He sighed at last and took her arm in his. “Are you ready?” he asked.
She patted his sleeve. “I’m ready.”
He thought he was prepared to see her. He’d formed an image in his mind, allowing for what was sure to be a dazzling dress, her bright, gold hair coiled on the nape of her neck, and those emerald green eyes. But when the music altered and the people stood to their feet, the sight of her emptied his chest.
She was far more beautiful than he thought, and his heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t so hard to go through with this when she looked that way. Who else could be so perfect? So captivating.
Maire and her father stopped at the foot of the altar, and the minister asked, “Who gives this woman to be with this man?”
Her father choked to say the words, his eyes moist and his face reddened. He gave an unexpected answer. “Her mother and I share her,” he said.
Share. For whatever the years that passed from this day forward, she would always be a part of him, an extension of a great man whose life affected so many.
She gazed in Gerritt’s eyes, her flawless complexion aglow, and he stretched out his hand. She slipped her fingers into his, fine-boned, delicate, and warm. He squeezed them ever so slightly to reassure her he meant this and had no doubts.
The minister cleared his throat. “Repeat after me ...”
They turned to face each other, and the years passed before him. Was this the same tow-headed toddler who always gave him half her cookie? Or the nine-year-old who stood him down when he wanted to sneak out late? Was she the girl, age twelve, who defended him before a crowd of boys bent on beating him to a pulp? It couldn’t be her. Because this woman before him was greater than all that. She was marvelous and sensual and bewitching.
Silence stretched out between them, and he tightened his grip.
“I, Maire O’Fallen, take thee, Gerritt Finnegan, to be my husband, to have and to hold, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, ‘til death do us part.”
He smiled at her and repeated the vows. “I, Gerritt Finnegan, take thee, Maire O’Fallen, to be my wife, to have and to hold, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, ‘til death do us part.”
The minister asked for the rings, and Michael slipped them into Gerritt’s hand. Gerritt pinched the diamond band he’d purchased between his thumb and forefinger, steadying her tremoring fingers in his palm.
“With this ring, I thee wed and wear it as a symbol of our love and commitment,” she said. Her voice came from inside him, a musical score played in his head, and he reveled in the chime of it even as she struggled afterward to push his gold band over his knuckle.
“With this ring, I thee wed and wear it as a symbol of our love and commitment.” He said the words, each one underscored by the adoration in her eyes. Blind, he had to have been blind all these years to not see she loved him.
Why, in the strength of that, wouldn’t he do this? To be loved that deeply was a gift, a precious gift.
Her brother crossed the pulpit behind them and took his place by the piano. The congregation held their collective breath in suspense of what was to come. Word had spread he was to sing and curious onlookers crowded the streets, peering in the church windows in hopes of a glimpse, one snatch of his song.
He was magnificent, but Gerritt had heard him sing many times. Michael always sang to impress, unlike his father whose singing came from deeper inside. Women sighed and fanned themselves, faces uplifted.
It took several minutes for the minister to speak after the performance. “May you both be prepared to give,” he finally said, “able to forgive, and experience more and more joy with each passing day, with each passing year.” He smiled at them both. “You may now seal the promises you have made with a kiss.”
Gerritt stared in Maire’s eyes. He’d made light of it to her, warned her so she wouldn’t be frightened, but discovered he wanted to kiss her. This would be his only chance. He would never presume upon her once they were wed. That wasn’t in the promise he had made.
He’d promised to care for her child, to give the baby his name, and to love it as his father had him. He promised to provide for her always, to buy her anything she needed, and take her anywhere she wanted to go. But intimacy was not a part of that. He would not be like the blackguard who had stripped her pride away.
Yet just once, this one time, he wanted to know what it was like. What she was like. If tasting her lips affected him at all, or if he was really as cold as others had always said.
He cupped her cheeks and lowered his head, his mouth exploring hers, a sensuous journey that shattered his control. Even when she threw her hand on his arm, her legs trembling, it only escalated, the craving mounting from his core.
He should stop. He should pull back, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t enough, this one moment too short. Please give me one more succulent taste.
The minister coughed, and startled, Gerritt released her. She positively glowed in his vision, a heavenly illusion, a snow-white being.
“Family and friends,” the minister said. “I give you Mr. and Mrs. Gerritt Finnegan.”