Unlikely Hero. Marta Perry
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had been home to Brendan for so long that he sometimes managed to forget his earlier life. Sometimes, but not for long. His father had been Uncle Joe’s brother, after all, and an innocent phrase or gesture could bring that past surging back.
Joe held center stage at the moment, as he so often did, while Siobhan watched him, quietly smiling. He’d turn soon to his favorite subject.
“And did you know that all the Flanagans were members of the Suffolk Fire Department, Ms. Delany?”
“I’ve heard something about that, yes.” Claire’s gaze met Brendan’s. “I guess Brendan broke the family tradition, didn’t he?”
“You’d think that, but you’d be wrong,” Joe said triumphantly. “Brendan might be a minister, but he’s also the chaplain of the fire department.”
Claire’s eyebrows lifted. “Yes, he told me. He’s talented, isn’t he?”
“That’s our Brendan. And he doesn’t just go through the motions. He’s a fully qualified firefighter, too. I’d count on him to take the hose in just as much as I would Gabe or Seth or Ryan.”
“Leave me out of it,” Gabe said. He smiled at Nolie, and the love that shone between them was so bright it hurt to look. “I’ve got another full-time job now.”
“And a good one it is, too,” Joe said quickly.
After an accident on the job left Gabe prone to seizures that ended his career, they’d all feared he’d never be himself again. Then Nolie and the service animals she trained had given him a new purpose in life.
Max, Gabe’s seizure alert dog, lay beside his chair. Gabe and Nolie were totally involved in expanding her services to give more people a fresh start.
They all owed a great deal to Nolie. Brendan wondered, not for the first time, at the strong bond between Nolie and Claire. They seemed such total opposites. Nolie was all warmth and caring, more comfortable in jeans working with her animals than anywhere else.
Claire didn’t look as if she ever wore anything as casual as jeans. Even the clothes she’d chosen for a simple family dinner, black slacks and cream silk shirt, declared that. Against the shirt, her hair was a helmet of burnished copper.
He’d have guessed Claire was the type of woman to have few women friends, obsessed as she seemed to be with her career. Whatever the secret to her bond with Nolie was, Gabe probably knew it, but Gabe wasn’t telling.
“Let’s take our coffee into the living room and be comfortable,” Siobhan suggested. “We can talk about the wedding there.”
Brendan slid his arm around his aunt’s waist as they got up. “That was a wonderful meal.” He kissed her cheek. “As always.”
“You should know,” Seth gibed. “You’re always here.”
“I’m invited,” he retorted. “What’s your excuse?”
Since young Davy chose that moment to throw a bit of apple at his father, Seth didn’t respond. Brendan escaped to the living room.
Seth would get his revenge at some point, of course. That was part of being more like brothers than cousins.
Joe was giving Claire the grand tour of the wall that was covered with fire department photos and citations. He glanced at Gabe, who rolled his eyes. There was no sidetracking Uncle Joe when he got started on his favorite topic.
“That picture is me and my two brothers when we joined up, more years ago than I care to remember,” Joe said, gesturing to a faded black-and-white photo. “We thought we were pretty hot stuff the first time we put those uniforms on.”
Claire leaned closer, studying the picture as if she really were interested in Flanagan family history. “Which one is Brendan’s father?”
His stomach clenched, but at least she’d asked Joe, not him. Joe pointed.
“That’s my brother John, Brendan’s dad. He was a year younger than me.”
And a million miles different in temperament. But probably his uncle was able to remember some of the good things about his little brother.
Claire took a step or two along the wall, looking at one citation after another. Nobody could fault the Flanagans when it came to courage. They had more than their share of citations attesting to that.
“Distinguished Fire Service Award,” Claire read. “John Patrick Flanagan.” She glanced at him. “This was your father’s.”
He nodded. “The highest award given by the department.” He was pleased that his voice sounded so level.
“I should think you’d want to have this in your office,” she said. “Or your home.”
How he kept his expression steady he wasn’t sure. What was it with this woman? How could she manage to put her finger right on the sore spot and push?
“Aunt Siobhan keeps the awards,” he said lightly. “I wouldn’t want to leave a hole in her display.”
He carried his coffee to a chair and sat, only to discover that Gabe was watching him with concern. Okay, maybe he wasn’t hiding his feelings as well as he thought, at least not from Gabe, who knew him better than anyone. But Claire would never guess.
He glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry to interrupt the grand tour, Uncle Joe, but maybe we’d better get started on the wedding arrangements. I have to be back at the church by nine.”
Uncle Joe nodded, but Gabe gave him a quizzical look. “I thought we’d already decided. A simple, quiet ceremony, just family and a few friends. Nolie and I are too busy with the expansion project to do anything else.”
Some of his tension eased. Surely Claire would see that they had to do this Gabe and Nolie’s way.
“Claire has some other ideas—” he began, but Claire interrupted him.
“I’m the closest thing Nolie has to family.” Her voice was determined. “I want to give her a real wedding with all the trimmings. She’s only going to do this once. It should be a day to remember.”
He waited for Nolie to insist that what she wanted was the simple ceremony Gabe had talked about.
“Claire, I can’t let you do that,” Nolie said, her blue eyes troubled. “It’s too expensive, and besides, we just don’t have enough time. We’re so busy with the farm we can’t take care of all those arrangements.”
“That’s why I want you to let me do it.” The firm set of Claire’s jaw suggested that neither money nor time would deter her. “You should have a perfect wedding.” Her look softened. “You and Gabe deserve it. Let me do this for you—it would be my gift to you both. Please.”
Gabe looked horrified for just one instant. Then he looked at Nolie and obviously saw what they all saw— that moment of sheer longing before she closed the door on the idea and shook her head.
“I agree,” Siobhan said unexpectedly. “So there’s not much time. So what? Goodness knows we’ve put on plenty of parties on a moment’s notice in the past. A wedding’s far more important.”
If Aunt Siobhan had gone over to the enemy, they were really in trouble.
“The ceremony is the important thing,” Brendan said, but he had the sinking feeling no one was listening to him.
Siobhan, Claire and Nolie were suddenly all talking at once, and words like “shower,” “flowers” and “lace” floated to the surface like spray tossed up by a wave.
He met Gabe’s gaze. Gabe gave a rueful grin. “Forget it, Bren,” he said. “We’ve been outvoted. I guess it’s going to be a wedding with a capital W.”
“I guess so.”
Claire cast him a triumphant look, as if