Sinful (18 page)

F
OR THE NEXT
two weeks, Eve deferred to Connor’s wish to deal with his father on his own. The problem was, as far as she could tell, he’d dealt with the issue by ignoring it.

She’d kept her fingers crossed that
National Geographic
would go for her idea of photographing the mustangs at Safe Haven, but it hadn’t worked out. The editor had been apologetic, but she’d pointed out to Eve that they needed photographs of an actual band of
wild
mustangs. Otherwise, what was the point? If Eve wanted the job it was hers, but she would have to take her photographs in Nevada. And the deadline for her answer was looming.

Eve had another day or so to make her decision, but she didn’t see how she could turn down the job. Especially in light of Connor’s situation. The only thing she could think to do was force a confrontation with Angus Flynn and get him to back down.

When Sunday morning came around again, Eve got up early and dressed the children and herself for church. She announced to Connor, who sat in front of the fire with a cup of coffee and
Fortune
magazine,
“The kids and I are going to church this morning. Care to join us?”

He didn’t even look up when he answered. “God and I aren’t on speaking terms at the moment.”

That was a complication Eve hadn’t foreseen. “Because of Molly?”

“That’s one reason.”

He glanced at her, a line etched between his brows, and Eve realized he hadn’t made peace with God over Paddy’s death, either.

He pursed his lips. “Which church are you planning to attend?”

“The one your children have always attended.”

“You’re taking them to St. Michael’s?”

“Your children are Catholic, Connor. Of course I’m taking them to St. Michael’s.”

“My family will be there.”

“Most likely, yes, they will.”

“Where are you planning to sit?”

“With them, of course.”

Connor scowled. “Angus won’t like it.”

“It won’t be easy for him to throw us out,” Eve said. “I’m his daughter-in-law and Brooke and Sawyer are his grandchildren.”

“In other words, you’d be perfectly happy to make a scene.”

“What I’m telling you is that
he
won’t make a scene. Not with the children there and all his friends watching.”

“You don’t know my father,” Connor muttered.

“Are you going to let some old bully get away with keeping your wife and children from sitting with your family?” Eve challenged.

Connor sat up abruptly, spewing a mouthful of coffee. “Did you just call my father an
old bully
?”

“If the shoe fits—”

“Hell and damnation! You’re liable to start World War Three if I let you go there by yourself.”

She saw the moment Connor realized that he’d just been manipulated into going to church.

He shot her a rueful look as he stood and swiped at the coffee on his T-shirt. “I need a shower and a shave.”

She smiled sweetly. “We’ll wait. We have plenty of time.”

He glanced at the antique clock on the mantel and made a disgusted sound. “We need to leave in the next fifteen minutes if we’re not going to be late.”

“You were a Delta sergeant. It takes you five minutes to shower and shave.”

Connor scowled, crossed the room to set his coffee cup on the breakfast bar, and headed for the bathroom. “All right. You win.”

“I’m not playing games,” Eve shouted after him.

“Tell that to my dad,” he called back to her.

Eve was more anxious about the upcoming meeting with Angus than she’d let on. She was counting on Connor’s father wanting to keep up appearances, which meant there would be a window where he would be forced to speak with civility to his son and his son’s wife.

Since the day was warm, she’d sent the kids out onto the porch to play and joined them there to wait for Connor. He showed up eight minutes later wearing a pale blue oxford-cloth shirt with a striped tie, a navy sport coat, khaki trousers, and brown loafers.

“Wow.” Eve felt her insides flutter at the sight of
him, his face freshly shaven, his blue eyes bright, his hair still damp, with that dashing hank of hair falling on his brow.

Connor smirked in response to her awestruck expression. “I figured it you were going to dress up and look good enough to eat, I should, too.” He gestured toward the pickup. “Shall we?”

Eve took Sawyer’s hand in one of hers, but when she reached for Brooke’s hand the little girl said, “I always hold Daddy’s hand when we go to church.”

Eve saw the shocked look on Connor’s face before he reached out to take his daughter’s small hand in his large one. Brooke had played tag with Connor during their picnic, but for weeks she’d avoided addressing him directly. Eve had seen his frustration grow as time passed, and nothing he’d done had melted his daughter’s reserve.

All it had taken was a willingness to do something he and Brooke and Sawyer and Molly must have done every Sunday morning he was at home during Brooke’s entire short life to remind his daughter that he was indeed her father.

Connor looked at Eve with dawning understanding. He obviously hadn’t been to church since he’d returned from Afghanistan or Brooke would have insisted he take her hand long before now. He reached down and picked up his daughter and held her close. The little girl threw her arms around Connor’s neck and held tight, her nose pressed against his throat.

Eve felt her throat swell with emotion as tears suddenly appeared in Connor’s eyes.

He croaked, “I guess we…” He cleared his throat and finished, “better go.”

C
ONNOR DIDN
’
T WANT
to let go of his daughter to put her in her car seat. If only he’d known that something as simple as attending church with Brooke would be the key to melting her heart or winning her trust or whatever it was that had made her finally reach out to him. Did this mean she would allow him to hug her from now on? That she would be giving him butterfly kisses at bedtime?

A painful knot was still caught in his throat as he finished attaching the belts on Brooke’s car seat. He exchanged a grateful look with Eve over the children’s heads. She was the reason he’d broken his vow not to return to church until he could forgive God for taking Paddy, for taking Molly, and for all the death and destruction he’d witnessed during three tours in Afghanistan. If not for Eve, he might still be estranged from his daughter.

He spent the entire hour drive to town listening as Eve sang children’s songs with the kids. He glanced at her often, amazed at the smile that remained on her face as they sang song after song, none of which he knew.

His mind was focused on figuring out what to say to Angus.

Keeping the sanctuary up and running was important not just for the sake of the vets, but so that Eve didn’t need to take that assignment in Nevada in order to support her mustangs. Not that she might not decide to go anyway, but they would both have more choices if the trip weren’t financially necessary.

Brooke interrupted his contemplation with the command, “Sing, Daddy!”

He realized the other three were belting out “Let It Go.” He would have done anything his daughter asked to reinforce the new accord between them. He grinned at Eve and began to sing.

They had just finished, laughing and off-key, when they pulled up in front of St. Michael’s. The old stone church sat in the shadow of the Grand Tetons surrounded by a windbreak of spruces and pines. As he turned off the engine, Connor asked Eve, “Do we take the kids with us to church? Or leave them in child care?”

“Let’s take Brooke with us. She’s old enough to sit through the service.”

And affectionate enough to melt his father’s cold, cold heart
, Connor thought. “And Sawyer?” he asked.

“He’ll do better in child care.”

Connor held his breath as he released the belts on Brooke’s car seat. Would she come into his arms again? Or would she reach for Eve?

When his daughter held out her arms to him, Connor lifted her into his embrace and felt his heart swell with love for his child. He dared so far as to kiss Brooke’s cheek and saw her sudden glance sideways
at him. He waited for some protest, but she merely slid her arms around him and snuggled close.

He set her down, and the four of them walked hand in hand toward the church.

Connor felt a moment of apprehension when they arrived at the door to the nursery. He wasn’t sure how Sawyer would react to being left behind. His son ran toward one of the other little boys, calling out his name. “I guess he isn’t going to miss us,” he said with a chagrined smile.

Eve laughed. “No, he won’t. Mrs. Robertson runs the nursery.”

Connor was both shocked and dismayed. “What?”

Eve nodded toward a short, slender, dark-haired woman with her back to them, bending over a small child holding up a toy truck. “She has for the past six months. I guess you wouldn’t know that. Molly brought the kids to St. Michael’s every Sunday and usually put Sawyer in the nursery. He knows all the kids.”

Sawyer left his friend’s side and charged over to his grandmother, who picked him up and gave him a hug. Mrs. Robertson turned in the direction Sawyer pointed, and Connor saw the same wariness in her face that he felt himself. As she walked toward them Brooke called out a jubilant “Nana!” She pulled free of his grasp and raced toward her grandmother.

Mrs. Robertson talked briefly to both children, who seemed excited to see her, then took Brooke’s hand and led her back to Connor.

“Hello,” she said. “The children look well.”

“Did you think they wouldn’t?” Connor heard the antagonism in his voice and felt Eve’s hand on his arm in the same instant.

“It’s nice to see you, Mrs. Robertson,” Eve said. “You’re looking well, too.”

That wasn’t exactly true, Connor realized. Molly’s mother looked tired, as though she weren’t sleeping. And sad, which he could understand. He felt a spurt of sympathy and tamped it down. This woman had tried to steal his children.

Connor felt Eve’s fingers twine with his, felt the reassuring pressure of her grasp, and let the anger and resentment seep out of him. He had his children back. He could afford to be generous.

“Will you be leaving Sawyer here today?” Mrs. Robertson asked.

Connor nodded curtly.

“And Brooke?”

“Brooke’s going to church with us,” Eve said.

Molly’s mother looked disappointed, but she merely patted Brooke’s chestnut curls and said, “I’ll see you after the service, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Nana,” Brooke said as she ran back to Connor, her arms outstretched to be picked up.

As he let go of Eve’s hand to scoop his daughter into his arms, Connor realized that Brooke was totally unaware of the tension arcing between him and her grandmother. Maybe he should make sure it stayed that way.

“We’ll see you after the service,” he said.

Mrs. Robertson looked surprised at the neutral tone of his voice, but also relieved. “Yes. See you then.”

As they turned to leave, Eve whispered in his ear, “I’m proud of you.”

He frowned. “For what?”

“For giving her a chance. For having an open heart. For doing what you know is right.”

Connor made a face. But it felt good to hear Eve’s words of praise.

“Just a moment, Eve.”

Connor and Eve both turned back to Mrs. Robertson.

“I have something for you,” the older woman said. “I’ve been carrying it around with me, hoping I would see you in town. If you don’t mind coming with me a moment, I can give it to you now.”

“Of course.” Eve followed Mrs. Robertson toward the back of the nursery, where Molly’s mother retrieved her purse from a shelf. She rooted through it, then handed Eve a small book with a flowered cloth cover.

Connor saw the surprise on Eve’s face, her attempt to return the book, and Mrs. Robertson forcing it back into her hands.

Eve finally tucked the book into her purse and rejoined him.

As they left the nursery and headed back down the hall to the church, he asked, “What did she give you?”

“A book.”

“I could see that. What kind of book?”

“It belonged to Molly.”

“Are you going to make me keep asking questions, or are you going to tell me what it is?”

“It’s a diary.”

Connor stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. “Molly’s diary?”

“No, Mrs. Robertson’s diary.” She snorted at the
stunned look on his face. “Of course it’s Molly’s diary!”

“Why did she give it to you?”
And not me?

“She said there are a few passages in it I should read. She marked them for me.”

Connor waited for Eve to share more of whatever reason Mrs. Robertson had given for handing over Molly’s diary, but she remained stubbornly mute. “Fine. Don’t tell me anything. I probably don’t want to know what’s in the damned thing anyway.”

Eve looked unhappy. “No, I don’t think you do.”

“If Molly wrote something bad about me—”

“It’s not about you,” she said, interrupting him. “It’s about me.”

Connor stared at her a long moment, then felt Brooke tugging on his hand.

“Come on, Daddy. Church is starting.”

He searched Eve’s face one more time for any sign that she might relent, then said, “We better get to church.”

He took one of Brooke’s hands and Eve took the other as they walked down the center aisle to the Flynn pew on the right-hand side at the front of the church. Angus sat on the aisle. Aiden, Brian, and Devon were spread out, leaving no room for anyone else. “Scoot over,” Connor said to Aiden.

Aiden turned to Brian and said, “Move over.”

Brian said to Devon, “Make some room.”

The three brothers edged farther down the pew to make room between Aiden and Angus to fit Connor and Eve. Connor watched his father’s back stiffen and his shoulders square as Eve stepped past Angus and settled on the cushioned pew beside Aiden. Connor
sat to Eve’s left, next to his father, and held Brooke on his lap.

Connor didn’t hear much of the liturgy. He was too busy wondering what Molly had said in her diary. Then he realized he hadn’t asked Eve the most important question. What year had the diary been written? During Molly’s youth? Or since their marriage?

He realized he had far bigger problems than Molly’s diary. His father sat rigid as a fence post beside him. Angus hadn’t said another word after “Hummmph” when Connor sat down next to him. Connor was pretty good at reading body language, and Angus’s said, “You’re toast.”

Connor let Brooke fiddle with the handkerchief in his pocket, with the buttons on his suit coat, and with the clasp that held his tie. He let her draw with a pencil provided by the church on one of the church’s attendance cards. He held her in his arms when they rose to sing hymns, and when the time came, he helped her to kneel on the prie-dieu beside him.

It was all familiar behavior. The only thing missing was Molly. But for the first time since her death, Connor had hope that he might find happiness again after the loss of his wife. His wedding night—and all the nights since then—had been a revelation, in more ways than one. Surely Eve couldn’t make love to him night after night, often several times a night, if she didn’t have feelings for him.

Since Aiden hadn’t moved down enough to give Eve much room, her thigh was pressed against Connor’s. He caught her hand in his and held it, knowing that she was as unlikely to make a scene in church as
his father. He wasn’t just making a statement to his father, he actually enjoyed holding her hand.

His father held the hymnal where Connor could see it, but the instant the song was done, he slapped it closed and set it back in the rack behind the pew.

When it came time to take Communion, Connor settled Brooke in Eve’s lap and followed his father to the rail, his brothers behind him. Connor found surprising solace in taking Communion. It was one more step toward letting go of all the anger he felt at having his life turned upside down.

To his surprise, as soon as his family was seated again, Brooke scooted from Eve’s lap onto her grandfather’s lap. In the past Connor had brought his daughter to both church and the Lucky 7 frequently, so he knew Angus had a soft spot for his first grandchild.

Connor was content to let Brooke sit with his father for the rest of the service. He watched as Angus pulled his cell phone from his pocket and handed it to Brooke, who immediately began playing a digital game. Connor was astonished at how adept his four-year-old daughter was at handling the complicated cell phone. His child’s world had definitely moved on while he’d been overseas.

Since the Flynns sat at the front of the church, they were the last to leave. Angus didn’t get up, he simply handed Brooke to Eve and said, “Connor and I will meet you out front later.”

Eve eyed Connor sideways as she stood and left the church with Aiden, Brian, and Devon. Once they were alone, Angus focused his steely gaze on Connor and said, “If you expected this spectacle of familial harmony to change my mind, you’re badly mistaken.”

“I brought my wife and daughter to worship with my father and brothers. I’d hardly call that a spectacle.”

“She’s a
Grayhawk
.” He made the word an epithet. “Her father killed my sister. That’s something I can never—will never—forgive.”

“Aunt Jane’s been gone a long time, Dad. Why don’t you let it go?”

“Because he got Matt back!”

Connor was confused. “What does Matt have to do with anything?”

“King doesn’t deserve that boy’s love.”

“From what I’ve heard, Matt’s only here until he can take possession of Kingdom Come.”

“King will never give him the ranch—assuming, of course, that he owns it a year from now.”

“There’s a chance he won’t?”

Angus sneered. “A very good chance. But if he does, that slimy son of a bitch will find some excuse to call off the deal.”

“I can’t believe Matt wouldn’t have asked for something in writing before he came all this way.”

“You can bet whatever King signed is unenforceable,” Angus said. “It’s what I’d do. Whatever else I think about that snake in the grass, he’s every bit as crafty as I am.”

“Why are you so cynical?” Connor asked. “Why can’t you believe King just wants his son back and is willing to pay the price to make it happen?”

“Because that bastard never did a generous, loving thing for anyone in his whole miserable life.”

“Dad, listen to yourself. This has to stop. No
one’s all bad. King Grayhawk is my wife’s father. Nothing is going to change that.”

“I don’t want his blood mixed with mine. I want that marriage annulled before she—”

“No.”

He saw the shocked look on his father’s face before his cheeks reddened with anger. “Are you daring me to cut you off?”

“If you’re forcing me to choose between Safe Haven and my wife, I’ll take Eve.”

“What’s got into you?”

“I don’t want to lose her.”

“You hardly know the woman.”

“She’s a fantastic mother. She’s a great photographer. And she’s going to be a damned good wife.”

Angus lifted a bushy black brow. “Is the girl pregnant? Is that why you’re being so obstinate?”

“No, Dad,” Connor said in disgust. “I’m not asking you to give me anything that isn’t already mine, but I need that trust fund.”

A pained expression crossed Angus’s face.

“I’m not asking for myself. I’m asking for the veterans who come to Safe Haven.”

Connor watched the creases in his father’s brow deepen before he said, “Get rid of that Grayhawk woman, and you can keep your trust fund. Otherwise, my lawyer will start the paperwork to rescind it starting bright and early tomorrow morning.”

Connor didn’t argue. Angus was obstinate, used to getting his way as only a very powerful and wealthy man could be. He was going to have to figure out another way for his sanctuary to thrive.