only what was freely offered. He was something else all right. She let out a little sigh then, feeling guilty about having such thoughts just a few feet away from the holy church. Mother Mary Madelyne was probably right about her. She was going to go to hell in a handbag if she didn’t learn to control her sinful imagination.
The stranger must have sensed her staring at him because he suddenly turned and looked directly at her. Embarrassed at being caught in the act of gawking at him, she was about to turn away when the front door opened, and Tommy came outside. Laurant was overjoyed to see him there, and not in a hospital bed as she had feared.
Dressed in his long black cassock and white Roman collar, he looked pale to her-and worried. She started weaving her way through the crowd.
Tommy and the stranger he was talking to presented a striking picture. Both were tall and dark-haired, but Tommy bore the Irish complexion with his ruddy cheeks and generous sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Unlike her, when he accidentally stayed out in the sun too long, he didn’t tan; he burned. He had an adorable dimple-at least she thought it was adorable-in his right cheek, and his boyish good looks had earned him the amusing nickname 'Father What-a-Waste' from all the college and high school girls.
There certainly wasn’t anything boyish about the man standing next to her brother. He kept watching her make her way toward the porch as he listened to Tommy and occasionally nodded agreement.
He finally interrupted her brother when he tilted his head toward her. Tommy turned, spotted her, and shouted her name. Taking the stairs two at a time, his black robe flapping about his ankles, he raced to intercept her with a look of acute relief on his face.
Laurant noticed that his friend stayed on the porch, but he wasn’t paying any attention to them now. He was thoroughly occupied watching the crowd disperse around them.
She was astonished by her brother’s reaction to seeing her. She’d thought he’d be mad, or irritated at the very least, but he wasn’t upset at all. In fact, he acted as though they’d been separated for years, even though she had seen him only a few days ago when he’d taken her on a tour of the abbey’s attic.
Tommy engulfed her in a bear hug. 'Thank God you’re all right. I’ve been worried sick about you, Laurant. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I’m so happy to see you.'
His voice shook with emotion. Thoroughly confused by his behavior, she pulled away and said, 'You’re happy to see me? I thought you’d be furious that I followed you. Tommy, why didn’t you call me Friday evening? You promised you would.'
He finally let go of her. 'And you’ve been worried, haven’t you?'
She looked into his big brown eyes and decided to tell him the truth after all. 'Yes, I’ve been worried. You were supposed to call when you had the results of the blood work, but you didn’t call and I thought… maybe the results weren’t very good.'
'The lab screwed up. That’s why I didn’t call. They had to redo the tests. I should have called, but damn it, Laurant, you should have let me know you were coming. I’ve got Sheriff Lloyd looking all over Holy Oaks for you. Come on inside. I’ve got to call him and tell him you’re here, safe and sound.'
'You called Sheriff Lloyd looking for me? Why?'
He grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her along. 'I’ll explain everything as soon as I get you inside. It’s safer.'
'Safer? Tommy, what’s going on? I’ve never seen you so rattled. And who is that man standing on the porch?'
The question surprised her brother. 'You’ve never met him, have you?'
'Who?' she asked, her frustration mounting.
'Nick. That’s Nick Buchanan.'
She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to her brother. 'You’re sick again, aren’t you? That’s why he’s here… like the last time when you got so bad and you didn’t tell me until-'
'No,' he interrupted. 'I’m not sick again.' She didn’t look like she believed him, and so he tried once again to convince her. 'I promised you I would tell you when and if I had to have chemo again. Remember?'
'Yes,' she whispered, her fear ebbing.
'I’m sorry I didn’t call you Friday,' he said. 'It was inconsiderate. I should have let you know the tests got screwed up.'
'If you don’t have to have chemo again, why is Nick here?' she asked with a glance toward the porch.
'I sent for him, but the reason had nothing to do with my health.' He rushed on before she could interrupt him. 'Come on, Laurant. It’s about time you met him.'
With a smile she said, 'The infamous Nick Buchanan. You didn’t tell me he was so…' She stopped herself in time. She had always felt she could tell her brother just about anything, but it didn’t seem appropriate now for her to admit that she thought his best friend was incredibly sexy. It was double jeopardy, she supposed, having an older brother who also happened to be a priest. There was no way he would understand or appreciate his sister having such ideas.
Nick and Tommy were more like brothers than friends. They met during a fistfight on the playground of St. Matthew’s Elementary School when they were in second grade. They bloodied each other’s noses and from that day on became each other’s shadow. By an odd set of circumstances, Tommy ended up living with the Buchanan family of eight children most of his grade school and high school years, and then he and Nick went to Penn State University together.
'He’s so what?' Tommy asked as he pulled her along.
'I’m sorry?'
'Nick’s so what?'
'Tall,' she said, finally remembering what they were talking about.
'I never sent you any photos?'
'No, you didn’t,' she said, casting her brother a frown for the oversight. Suddenly nervous, she took a deep breath, smoothed her skirt, and went up the stairs to meet him.
Lordy, lordy, he had blue eyes. Brilliant blue eyes that didn’t miss a trick, she thought as Tommy made the hasty introductions. She put her hand out to shake his, but he wouldn’t let her be formal. He pushed her hand away, pulled her into his arms, and hugged her. It was a brotherly embrace, and when she stepped back, he continued to hold on to her while he looked her over.
'I’m so happy to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you over the years,' she said.
'I can’t believe we haven’t met before now,' he replied. 'I saw all the pictures of you when you were a kid. Tommy had them up on the wall of our dorm room, but that was years ago, and damn, Laurant, you sure have changed.'
She laughed. 'I hope I have. The sisters at the boarding school were thoughtful enough to send photos to my brother, but he, on the other hand, never sent me any.'
'I didn’t own a camera,' Tommy said.
'You could have borrowed one. You were too lazy.'
'Men don’t think about things like that,' he argued. 'At least I didn’t. Nick, we should get her inside, shouldn’t we?'
'Yes, of course,' he agreed.
Tommy held the screen door open and rudely shoved Laurant inside.
'What, in heaven’s name, is the matter with you?' she demanded.
'I’ll explain in a minute,' he promised.
The foyer was dark and musty. Her brother rushed ahead and led the way into the kitchen at the back of the two-story house. There was a breakfast nook with a bay window overlooking Monsignor’s vegetable garden, which took up most of the fenced-in backyard. An old rectangular oak table, one leg propped up with a coaster so it wouldn’t wobble, and four spindle chairs sat in front of the three windows. The room had been recently painted a bright, cheerful yellow, but the blinds were torn and brown along the edges. They needed to be replaced, but she knew money was a precious commodity at Mercy.
Laurant stood in the center of the kitchen, watching her brother. He was acting like a nervous twit, pulling all the blinds down to the windowsill. Sunlight filtered into the kitchen through the cracks and tears, filling the room with soft light.
'What’s the matter with him?' she whispered to Nick.
