your son the only way that will work given the present time constraints?”
Matt burst out the back door, Kelly’s cell phone in hand. “Mom, phone!”
Kelly glanced at the caller ID. Connecticut. She didn’t know anyone from there who would have her number.
“This is Kelly.”
“Kelly, my dear, this is Sean McKenna. Evan’s father.”
If he hadn’t announced himself she would have thought she was speaking with Evan, only his voice was stronger and carried the brogue of her home turf. She looked at Michael with bewilderment when he gestured to ask who was calling.
“Mr. McKenna. How do you do?”
Michael mouthed, “Evan?”
Placing her hand over the phone she whispered, “His father!”
When Sean began speaking she returned her attention to the call.
“I’m here in Manhattan with my lovely wife. We arrived last night to attend your wedding. It’s already close to noon. Will we be seeing you shortly?”
She was so flustered, her mouth opened and closed a few times. “Well, sir, there has been a complication.”
There was only a short pause. “Well, Evan is right here with us. He’s explained your situation as delicately as possible. I have yet to meet you or your son, but Julie is smitten with you both. I trust her judgment completely. That said, with all due respect, I concur with Evan that it is in your very best interest to make this wedding happen today.”
Just like Evan, the man was nothing if not direct. Kelly closed her eyes, inhaling a deeply needed breath. She was a woman who always believed she’d get nudges toward the direction she should go when indecision confounded her. This man whom she’d never met before must certainly be a nudge. She felt herself capitulating. Michael watched her with unveiled concern.
A small chuckle escaped her throat. “Well, sir, I can see clearly from whom your son gets his straightforward personality.”
Sean McKenna’s laughter on the other end actually made her smile. She would like this man. “I think you mean pushy, eh? Ah, we Irish. A stubborn lot.”
“Aye, sir, but you must know I’m not happy with this current turn in events.”
He lowered his voice. “I understand. Believe me. I do. But I want you to know that we McKennas want to support you one hundred percent. We’ll put all our guns behind you. Evan is willing to put on a suit if you’ll meet him at two as arranged.”
“Why would you do this for me?”
The man sighed. “Our son is in love, lass. We’ve lost loved ones before due to political strife. We’ll not see it happen again in his life.”
Evan had either told them the truth or was working his story on his parents in order to get Kelly where he wanted her. Kelly’s eyes shot from Michael to Matt then skyward, her gaze landing on the church steeple next door. Dare she believe that perhaps she truly was wrong about Evan?
“Will you be there?” Sean McKenna’s voice held concern.
She released her held breath. “Aye, sir. I’ll show. Only, please understand if I’m a few minutes late. I’m not dressed for the occasion.”
* * *
EVAN ALTERNATED BETWEEN sitting in a chair to jumping out of his seat and staring out the twenty-first-floor window of his attorney’s office. Quince Jacobs, a bespectacled middle-age and well-manicured man with sandy-blond, receding hair was not only the family’s long-trusted attorney, but Sean’s neighbor and close friend. Evan had already discussed the possibilities of adopting Matt with him, only to confirm that it would be practically impossible while Campbell lived and claimed a tie to the boy. Quince concurred Evan’s best bet was legal guardianship with a handful of possible caveats. For now, that would be enough.
Quince had expressed reservations about Evan’s plan to marry Kelly due to the urgency in Evan’s request. He knew the McKenna family long enough to understand how passionate they became about social injustice. He didn’t want the son of his best friend with a considerable financial standing to become legally bound to a woman for the wrong reasons—especially without a prenuptial agreement. Evan assured him that his motives went deeper than a rescue mission. Once he was married, he’d explain the situation in detail. Otherwise, he had politely informed Quince that there was no changing his mind.
The clock on the desk said five minutes until two o’clock. Sean and Julie were making use of Quince’s time chatting business in the sitting area of his office. Champagne chilled in an ice bucket on the bar with six delicate champagne flutes on a tray