The house felt so empty without Michael. Even George seemed to miss him. He hadn’t been by once since he’d left. A few of his brothers had come by now and then, despite her refusal to pick up the phone. She watched them from behind the curtains as they walked around, checking things out, scraping bits of snow and ice she hadn’t managed to clear away. Taryn and Lexi stopped over every few days, too, but Maggie couldn’t bring herself to face them. She wrote an apology to Lexi and Ian shortly after her sight began to return, saying she was sorry for what happened the night of their reception, thanking them for taking care of George while she had been in the hospital.
Their calls, their visits, went unanswered.
What could Maggie say to them? That she loved Michael so much it hurt? That, incapable of facing one day at a time, she had broken it down into minutes, surviving from one to the next without believing she could? Of counting the seconds in her head when she was certain she simply could not bear even another minute?
And what would they tell her? That Michael loved her? Maggie already knew that. That he only did what he did because of that love? She knew that, too. But it didn’t excuse him. She had given him her heart, her very soul. Had done so willingly and without reservation. But that night in the hospital, Michael had taken her choice away from her. Stripped away her freedom, made decisions for her.
And that was unacceptable.
Maggie had seen what happened first-hand to a woman who surrendered her free will to those who claimed to have her best interests at heart. Her entire life had been shaped by one well-meaning but tragic event. After a difficult pregnancy, Maggie’s mother began hemorrhaging a month early. She’d been rushed to the hospital where a doctor made the decision – against her wishes – to deliver her early. As a result, Maggie’s mother had been left unable to have any more children, and Maggie had almost died. Her father had been devastated. Unable to cope, they left Maggie in the care of her grandparents and returned to Ireland.
Maggie would never allow that to happen to her. No one would ever ruin her life like that. Her hand reached protectively around the slight swell of her belly. No one would ever risk her or her child. Ever.
The cold of winter slowly began to give way to the promise of spring. Maggie began plowing the fields, pruning the orchards. It was a long, arduous process, especially without her full vision. Even simple tasks like getting the tractor key into the ignition had to be done more by touch than by sight. But at least it kept her busy. She literally fell into bed each night, completely exhausted, where her dreams would take her back to Michael, to a time when she believed she had found true happiness.
One night Maggie had a nightmare. She dreamed that Michael was dying. With astounding clarity she saw him, heard his brother’s voice in her head. “Hang on, Mick. Don’t you fucking die on me, man, you hear me? Lexi’s going to kick my ass if anything happens to you.”
Maggie’s dream self recognized the voice as Ian’s. “And I’m not telling Taryn you got your sorry ass shot on my watch.” That was Jake. “Mick – goddamnit, Mick! Stay with us!”
The image was blurry around the edges, but Maggie could see Michael and his brothers clearly, as if her vision was perfect once again. They were all dressed in black – like the day they had come to pick him up at her house. Jake was holding Michael in the back of some kind of vehicle – a van, maybe – while Ian was pressing something to his chest. Another man was driving. Though they hadn’t actually met, Maggie recognized him as one of the men she had seen at the wedding, Michael’s older brother. She thought his name might have been Kane.
Jake was trying to hold Michael as still as possible as they bounced along, swerving from side to side, moving at great speed.
“ETA?” Jake yelled up.
“Five minutes,” Kane responded.
“Too long.”
Maggie heard Kane curse, saw the van lurch forward at even greater speed.
“We’re losing him,” Ian said, pressing his fingers to Michael’s neck. The entire front of Michael’s chest was wet. With growing horror, Maggie realized it was blood.
“Michael.” Maggie’s voice echoed throughout the back of the van. The others didn’t seem to hear it, but Michael did. His eyes popped open, tried to focus.
“Maggie,” he gasped.
Jake and Ian exchanged a glance. “Yeah, that’s right, man, Maggie’s waiting for you. You can’t let her down.”
“Come back to me, Michael. I need you.” Maggie reached out with her hand. The moment she touched his face – it felt so real – his eyes went wide. “I love you, Michael,” she whispered. “You promised you would wait, forever if you had to.”
The van squealed to a stop and they ripped Michael out of the van. Maggie tried to follow but she couldn’t, forced to stay behind and watch as they carried him out of sight.
Maggie woke with a start, covered in sweat. The clock read two twenty-two a.m. She could see the clock! Grabbing the cell phone, she dialed Taryn’s number. Taryn picked up on the first ring, sounding wide awake.
“Taryn, it’s Maggie. I need to speak to Michael.”
Maggie clearly heard Taryn’s sharp intake of breath over the line. “Maggie, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but I need to talk to Michael, right now.”
There was a slight pause as Taryn put her hand over the phone and spoke quietly to someone. “Michael’s not here, Maggie.”
Dread curled in her stomach, writhing like a nest of snakes. Her nightmare couldn’t have been real, it just couldn’t. “Then let me talk to Jake, or Ian. Please Taryn.”
The long pause made her stomach roil. “They’re not here either.”
The truth came crashing down around her. “Michael’s hurt, Taryn. Badly. He’s dying.”
“How could you possibly know –“
Maggie didn’t want to take the time to explain, not now. Besides, Taryn would probably think she was crazy. “I don’t know, I just do. He can’t die, Taryn, he can’t, because he doesn’t know that I love him.”
Another pause, another muffled exchange. “Maggie, Lexi’s here with me now. I’m going to send someone to come get you, okay?”
By the time Shane arrived a short time later, Maggie was dressed and waiting by the door with George.
“Have you heard anything?” she asked as he carried George to the truck for her.
Shane studied her intently, as if deciding whether or not to answer. “Not since you called,” he said carefully.
“And before then?”
Again Shane seemed reluctant to answer. “Please,” Maggie pleaded.
Shane studied her stricken face and took pity on her. “Michael’s alive, last we heard.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but Shane held up his hand. “Please. No more questions until we get back to the Pub.”
She nodded. It was enough, for now. It would have to be.
An hour later, Maggie sat dumbfounded in the communal living room, stroking George. Taryn and Lexi were there, as were Shane, Sean, Kieran, and the Callaghan patriarch, Jack. The men were sitting in front of several laptops, wearing partial headsets, while Taryn and Lexi took turns explaining.
Maggie was taking the news rather well, she thought, though if she was honest with herself, she had suspected Michael and his brothers were more than they appeared to be on the outside. She still remembered the look Michael had given her when she made that quip about them looking like a black ops team.
“Why didn’t Michael tell me any of this?” she asked.
“It is forbidden,” Taryn said.
“I’m sure Michael wanted to tell you,” Lexi added, “but he couldn’t, not until he got permission from the others.”
Maggie caught the guarded glances of the brothers. They didn’t trust her. “So why are you telling me now?”
Taryn looked at Lexi before turning back to Maggie. “You dreamt of him, didn’t you? That’s how you knew Michael was in trouble.”
“Yes.�
�
Taryn shot an “I told you so’ look back at Shane. “You and Michael were meant for each other Maggie. You were the only one who couldn’t see it. But now you do. And Michael needs you.”
“I want to go to him.”
Shane stood up abruptly, shaking his head. “No.”
Maggie stood up, too. “Why not?”
“Absolutely not. It’s completely out of the question.”
Kieran held up his hand for silence, pressing the receiver closer to his ear. “Hang on, something’s coming in from Ian.” Kieran’s expression barely changed, though it was obvious the news was not good by the subtle tightening of his jaw. When he turned to face them, his expression was grave. “He’s asking for her. Maggie goes,” he said.
Once the decision was made, things moved very quickly. Maggie was rushed to a private air field, where she was put on a small plane. Sean shoved a bundle into her hands and told her to change while he piloted the craft. Maggie did as he asked, pulling on the dark camo pants and shirt over her own clothes and tucking her hair securely under the cap he provided. They hadn’t been in the air for long before they landed again. It was still dark outside, but from the few glimpses Maggie was able to get of her surroundings she had the distinct impression they were on some kind of military base. With orders to keep her head down and her mouth shut, Sean took her arm and led her quickly into what looked like a two-seater military jet.
“You get airsick?” Sean asked as he belted her in securely.
“Not so far,” she said warily. Sean smiled grimly. He replaced her cap with a helmet and placed a small bag into her hands. “If you feel sick, lift up the face plate before you hurl.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
It was by far the most breathtaking experience of her life, and by the end of it, Maggie was quite sure she didn’t want to do it again. Thankfully, she had not embarrassed herself, though she was pretty shaky when they landed. Even though Sean was forced to put an arm around her to keep her moving in a forward direction, he seemed relatively impressed.
From the jet they were whisked away in a black sedan, which Maggie found infinitely preferable. This time Sean was in the backseat with her and someone else was driving. He studied her intently.
“What?” she asked finally.
“You haven’t once asked where we’re going or why.”
“I’ve been too busy trying not to vomit,” she said, only half-joking. “But the where of it doesn’t really matter as long as Michael’s there, and I already know the why.”
Sean pulled no punches. “Michael’s in bad shape, Maggie.”
“I know.”
“There’s a chance he might not –“
Maggie hit Sean with a look that stopped him from completing that sentence, her green eyes fierce and flashing a warning. “Don’t even think about saying it, Sean Callaghan, because if you do, I will completely lose control and you will have a hysterical female on your hands. Michael is going to make it through this, because I am going to make sure of it. Are we clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sean said, biting back a smile.
“Call me ma’am again and I’ll shove this barf bag right up your arse.”
The driver coughed, though it sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
The car wound through narrow streets, working its way up a mountain. In many ways, it reminded Maggie of the mountains at home. Even the weather was on the cool side, with the slight hint of rain in the air. Eventually they pulled up to what looked like a small castle, set far back from the road and hidden among the swells.
Jake was waiting outside. His face was grim, but he offered Maggie a brief smile.
“Thanks for coming, Maggie. I want to hear how you knew about this, but later.” He guided her through a labyrinth of corridors, each heavily secured. Large, intimidating soldiers nodded to Jake as they passed.
They stopped outside a closed door, and Jake put his hand on Maggie’s shoulder, a silent warning for what she would find on the other side.
She thought she’d prepared herself, but she hadn’t. Michael lay back on a hospital bed, perfectly still. His eyes were closed, a white sheet drawn up just above his hips. He was heavily bandaged across the chest. His breathing was labored.
“Why isn’t he on oxygen?” Maggie asked quietly.
In answer, Jake pointed to the yellow paper taped on the wall above Michael’s shoulder. Maggie read it, paling as she did so. It was a DNR order – a mandate to take no artificial measures to save his life. Maggie yanked it off the wall and ripped it into tiny pieces.
“Maggie, you can’t - ”
“The hell I can’t,” she said, her eyes flashing dangerously. “He didn’t give me a choice. I’ll not give him one. Did you hear that, Michael Callaghan? I’m here because of you, and you’ll not be leaving me alone just yet.”
At the sound of her voice, Michael stirred a little. “Did you see that?” whispered Ian, who had been sitting quietly in the shadows.
”Say something else, Maggie,” encouraged Jake. “I think he can hear you.”
Maggie pushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. “Michael, you can rest now. I’m here.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Amazingly, his body relaxed a little, his breathing eased just a bit.
“That’s it, Michael,” she said softly as she stroked his hair. “That’s it. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Within a few minutes, Michael seemed to be resting comfortably.
“That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Jake said, shaking his head.
Keeping the same calm, soothing voice, Maggie said, “If I give you a list of things, can you get them?”
“What kind of things?”
“A few herbs, some teas, things like that.”
“We’ll get it,” Ian said confidently. “Just tell us what you need.”
Chapter Twenty
Michael knew he must be close to death. He’d heard enough people describe the sudden feeling of peace that came over them. How they heard the voices of the ones they loved, easing them through the process. It wasn’t that he had doubted them, exactly, but he wasn’t sure the same thing would happen to him.
He had always wondered, though – if it did happen, whose voice would he hear? He thought it might be his mother’s. It had been so long since he’d heard it; she had died nearly twenty years earlier when he was barely a boy of twelve. Yet he knew he would recognize it instantly.
Whenever he was sick, his mother would sit on the side of his bed and speak softly to him. It was as if she knew the sound of her voice was what he needed more than anything else. Sometimes she would read him a story, sometimes she would just talk about anything and nothing at all until he fell into a restful sleep. She would stroke his hair, just like she was doing right now...
Except that it wasn’t his mother’s voice he heard, he realized. It was Maggie’s. And her soft, lilting voice was getting an edge to it.
* * *
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Maggie asked the young nurse that had entered the room and was now setting up a tray with a basin of water, ph-balanced cleanser, and a sponge. And in Maggie’s opinion, she was looking far too happy about it.
“I must ask you to leave,” the nurse said with some kind of accent Maggie could not quite place. Russian, possibly? “It is time for his bath.”
Maggie’s eyes narrowed; her hand stilled momentarily. Jake, who was sitting in the corner – one of his brothers was with Michael at all times, Maggie noticed – was biting the inside of his mouth, presumably to keep the smile off of his face.
Maggie failed to see the humor. She did smile, however. It was a very wide smile, showing every one of her perfect white teeth, and it did not reach her eyes. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
The nurse hesitated for a brief moment, but then got a determined look on her face. She began to argue, but Maggie cut her off immediately. “Sorry, honey, no playtime for yo
u today. I will give him his bath.”
The nurse looked from Michael, to Maggie, back to Michael again. She was several inches taller than Maggie, but Maggie had the mother-bear look about her that said it would be no contest. If the nurse was smart, she’d turn quietly and leave. She wasn’t, apparently deciding that sponge-bathing Michael would be worth the trouble.
“That is not acceptable. You are not qualified –“
Maggie’s smile grew as she stood. Thankfully, Jake chose that moment to speak up.
“Actually, nurse, she is. And I’m afraid you do not have the necessary clearance.” Ignoring her protests, he took her arm lightly and escorted her to the door.
“I could totally have taken her,” Maggie said when Jake pulled the door closed shut again.
“Of that, I have no doubt,” Jake said, grinning. “Removing her from the room was for her protection, not yours.”
Maggie’s face relaxed as she grinned back at him. Her expression turned to a look of total surprise when she felt a tug on her hand.
“Maggie.”
Michael’s eyes were open. His voice was rough, raspy. Maggie took a small cloth and dipped it in ice water, holding it to his lips. He swallowed gratefully.
“Michael,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t leave me just yet.”
“You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe. You need to go.” He sounded so weak, like the very effort of speaking was costing him greatly.
“You need to be quiet,” she told him. “I’m not leaving without you, so you can just forget that.”
“Need to go. Tell Jake. Get home.” He was working himself up, and Maggie knew that was not a good thing.
“Michael, if you keep fighting me on this I’m going to have your brothers put you in restraints and I’m going to stick a needle into your arse to put you out, just like you did to me. And unlike you, I’m not very good with a needle. I may have to jab it in there several times till I get it right.” Michael glared at her, but kept his mouth shut.
“That’s better,” she said. “Now listen to me. If you want me out of here you are going to have to get your arse out of that bed and drag me kicking and screaming out the door yourself. Until then, I am afraid you are stuck with me.”
House Calls: Callaghan Brothers, Book 3 Page 15