Only in My Arms by Jo Goodman Read Free Book Online

something more formidable. She knew now that it was true and called on an inner reserve of strength, if not Divine guidance, to see her through this battle with her mother. It was accepted, even encouraged in a subtle sort of way, to match wills with Jay Mac. It fostered purpose and initiative and clear thinking. For as long as Mary could remember, no one had ever stood up to her mother.
    It had never been necessary. Until now.
    Jay Mac cut through the tension at the table by posing a question and drawing attention to himself. "Perhaps if you told us what's brought this about," he suggested.
    Mary's hands were clasped in her lap, the knuckles nearly bloodless from her tight grip. Her chin lifted a notch, but her face remained composed. "It's not easy to explain," she said slowly, searching for the right words.
    "Sure, and it's a crisis of faith," Moira interrupted. "That's what it is. I'm certain if you talk to Bishop Colden or Mother Superior they'd tell you it's not an uncommon experience. People of the cloth go through it just like parishioners. It doesn't mean you have to leave the church."
    "Mama," Mary said with rather more sharpness than she intended. "A crisis of faith is not a cold. It's not something one catches and suffers. One doesn't simply recover and go on. And I've talked to Bishop Colden and Mother Superior, and they agree this is not a crisis of faith."
    "But—"
    "Moira," Jay Mac said firmly, deeply. There was a caution in his tone he did not often use with his wife. "Let Mary say her piece."
    Moira was stricken. Her head snapped up, and her full mouth narrowed. The usual sparkle in her eyes was a militant glint now. "You're taking Mary Francis's side," she said, accusing in her hurt. "Sure, and you never wanted her to take her vows. You should be reminding her to honor her promises, especially when they're made to God."
    "Please," Mary implored softly, her eyes darting between Jay Mac and Moira. "This isn't supposed to be an argument between the two of you."
    It was as if she hadn't spoken. Jay Mac tempered his tongue by taking off his spectacles and making a show of cleaning them. "In the first place, Moira, I'm not taking anyone's side. As near as I can tell there's no side to be taken. And while it's true that I didn't think Mary should take her vows, I had to finally accept it was her decision. Now, if something's happened to make her change her mind, isn't that between her and God? Don't you think she's discussed this with Him?" He rose from his chair and replaced his spectacles on the bridge of his nose. Without asking what they wanted, he went to the sideboard and poured three cognacs. Rather than returning to his own chair at the head of the table, he pulled out the one at a right angle to Moira. He set the glasses in front of them and indicated they shouldn't be shy about drinking. "Do you think it's a crisis of faith, Mary?"
    She raised the crystal balloon glass between her hands, warming the liquor, but she didn't drink. She shook her head slowly. "No, it's not that. My struggle hasn't been with God but with what He wants for me. It's not that I don't believe in Him, I believe He has something else in mind for me."
    Moira stared straight ahead, looking at neither her husband nor her daughter. Her expression was stony, and when Jay Mac laid a hand on her wrist she stiffened and tightened her lips.
    Mary saw the movement, and the ache in her heart grew deeper. The sympathy in her father's eyes only made her want to cry. "I've given this a lot of thought, Mama—"
    "Then you should have prayed more and thought less."
    Jay Mac's sandy brows arched this time and he lowered his chin, looking hard at his wife over the gold-wire rims of his spectacles. In thirty-one years of knowing and deeply loving Moira, this was a side he had never seen. It was not like her to be so closed or intractable. She was subtler about her wishes than this exchange would lead one to believe. And she was never cruel. "Moira,