"Speak for yourself." Maeve sniffed and set her purse on the counter. "Bunch of foreign half-naked people running around on the beach."
"Some of the men were built beautifully." Lottie giggled. "There was an American widower who flirted with Maeve."
"Dallying." Maeve waved a hand, but her cheeks had flushed. "I paid no mind to his kind." Sitting down, Maeve gave Maggie a hard stare. She covered the spurt of concern with a curl of the lip. "Peaked you are. You'll soon appreciate what a mother suffers when you go into labor."
"Thank you so much."
"Ah, the girl's as strong as a horse." Lottie's voice was bracing as she patted Maggie's hand. "And young enough to have a half dozen children."
Maggie rolled her eyes and managed a laugh. "I don't know which of you depresses me more."
"It's nice you're back in time for the gallery opening tomorrow." Brianna tactfully changed subjects as she served the tea.
"Hah. What would I be doing wasting time at some art place?"
"We wouldn't miss it." Lottie aimed a stern look in Maeve's direction. "Maeve, you know very well you said you'd be pleased to see Maggie's work, and the rest."
Maeve shifted uncomfortably. "What I said was I was surprised there was so much fuss over bits of glass." She frowned at Brianna before Lottie could embarrass her further. "Your car wasn't out front. Has it fallen apart at last?"
"I'm told it was hopeless. I've a new one, the blue one out there."
"A new one." Maeve set her cup down with a clatter. "Squandering your money on a new car?"
" 'Tis her money," Maggie began heatedly, but Brianna cut her off with a look.
"It's not new, except to me. It's a used car, and I didn't buy it." She braced herself. "Grayson bought it for me."
For a moment there was silence. Lottie stared down at her tea with her lips pursed. Maggie prepared to leap to her sister's defense and fought to ignore the twinges.
"Bought it for you?" Maeve's voice was hard as stone. "You accepted such a thing from a man? Have you no care for what people will think, or say?"
"I imagine people will think it was a generous thing, and say the same." She set aside her frosting knife and picked up her tea. Her hands would shake in a moment. She knew it, hated it.
"What they will think is that you sold yourself for it. And have you? Is that what you've done?"
"No." The word was frigidly calm. "The car was a gift, and accepted as such. It has nothing to do with our being lovers."
There, she thought. She'd said it. Her stomach was clutched, her hands fit to tremble, but she'd said it.
White around the lips, her eyes burning blue, Maeve shoved away from the table. "You've whored yourself."
"I haven't. I've given myself to a man I care for and admire. Given myself for the first time," she said and was surprised that her hands remained steady. "Though you've told it differently."
Maeve's gaze cut to Maggie, full of bitterness and temper.
"No, I didn't tell her," Maggie said calmly enough. "I should have, but I didn't."
"It hardly matters how I found out." Brianna folded her hands together. There was a coldness inside her, a horrible chill, but she would finish this. "You saw that I lost whatever happiness I might have had with Rory."
"He was nothing," Maeve shot back. "A farmer's son who never would have made a man. You'd have had nothing with him but a houseful of crying children."
"I wanted children." An ache shot through the ice. "I wanted a family and a home, but we'll never know if I would have found that with him. You saw to that and dragged a good, fine man into your lies. To keep me safe, Mother? I don't think so. I wish I could think so. To keep me tied. Who would have tended to you and this house if I had married Rory? We'll never know that, either."
"I did what was best for you."
"What was best for you."
Because her legs felt weak, Maeve sat again. "So, this is the way you pay me back for it. By giving yourself in sin to the first man who strikes your fancy."
"By giving myself in love to the first and only man who's touched me."
"And what will you do when he plants a baby in your belly and goes off whistling?"
"That's my concern."
"She's talking like you now." Enraged, Maeve turned on Maggie. "You've turned her against me." "You've done that yourself."
"Don't bring Maggie into this." In a protective move Brianna laid a hand on her sister's shoulder. "This is you and me, Mother."
"Any chance of getting a ..." High on an afternoon of successful writing, Gray breezed into the kitchen and trailed off as he spotted the company. Though he felt the weight of tension in the room, he tried a friendly smile. "Mrs. Concannon, Mrs. Sullivan, it's good to have you back."
Maeve's hands curled into fists. "Bloody bastard, you'll burn in hell with my daughter beside you."
"Mind your tongue in my house." Brianna's sharp order shocked them all more than Maeve's bitter prediction. "I beg your pardon, Gray, for my mother's rudeness." "You'll beg no one's pardon on my account." "No," Gray agreed, nodding at Maeve. "There's no need. You can say what you like to me, Mrs. Concannon." "Did you promise her love and marriage, a lifetime of devotion to get her on her back? Do you think I don't know what men say to have their way?"
"He promised me nothing," Brianna began, but Gray cut her off with one sharp look.
"No, I didn't make promises. Brianna's not someone I would lie to. And she's not someone I'd turn from if I was told something about her I didn't like."
"You've shared family business with him, too?" Maeve whirled on Brianna. "It's not enough for you to condemn your soul to hell?"
"Will you forever be damning your children to hell?" Maggie fired up before Brianna could speak. "Because you couldn't find happiness, must you try to keep us both from finding it? She loves him. If you could see through your own bitterness, you'd know that, and that's what would matter to you. But she's been at your beck and call all her life and you can't stand the thought that she might find something, someone for herself."
"Maggie, enough," Brianna murmured. " 'Tisn't enough. You won't say it, never would. But she'll hear it from me. She's hated me from the moment I was born, and she's used you. We're not daughters to her, but by turns a penance and a crutch. Has she once, even once wished me happy with Rogan, or with the baby?"
"And why should I?" Maeve shot back, lips trembling. "And have my good wishes tossed back in my face. You've never given me the love that's a mother's right."
"I would have." Maggie's breath began to hitch as she shoved back from the table. "God knows I've wanted to. And Brianna's tried. Have you ever been grateful for all she put aside for your comfort? Instead you ruined whatever chance she had for the home and family she wanted. Well, you'll not do it again, not this time. You won't come into her house and speak to her or the man she loves this way."
"I'll speak as I choose to my own flesh and blood."
"Stop it, the pair of you." Brianna's voice was sharp as a whiplash. She was pale, icily so, and the trembling she'd managed to fight back had grown to shudders. "Must you strike at each other this way, always? I won't be the club you use to hurt each other. I've guests in the parlor," she said, drawing an unsteady breath. "And I prefer they not be subjected to the misery of my family. Maggie, you sit down and calm yourself."
"Fight your own battles, then," Maggie said furiously. "I'll leave." Even as she said it, the pain struck and had her gripping the back of the chair.
"Maggie." Panicked, Brianna grabbed her. "What is it? Is it the baby?"
"Just a twinge." But it built into a wave that stunned her.
"You've gone white. Sit down now. Sit, don't argue with me."
Lottie, a retired nurse, rose briskly. "How many twinges have you had, darling?"
"I don't know. On and off all afternoon." She let out a relieved breath when the pain passed. "It's nothing, really. I've two weeks yet, or nearly that."
"The doctor said any time
now," Brianna reminded her.
"What does a doctor know?"
"True, true." Smiling easily, Lottie skirted the table and began to massage Maggie's shoulders. "Anything else paining you, love?"
"My back a bit," Maggie admitted. "It's been nagging me all day."
"Mmmm. Well, you just breathe easy now and relax. No, no more tea for her just now, Brianna," she said before Brianna could pour. "We'll see by and by."
"I'm not in labor." Maggie's head went giddy at the idea. "It's just the mutton."
"Might be, yes. Brie, you haven't given your young man any tea."
"I'm fine." Gray looked from one woman to the other, wondering what move to make. Retreat, he decided, would probably be best for all of them. "I think I'll go back to work."
"Oh, I do enjoy your books," Lottie said cheerfully. "Two of them I read while we were on our holiday. I wonder how you can think up such tales and write them down in all those nice words."
She chattered on, keeping him and everyone as they were until Maggie caught her breath. "There you are, only about four minutes apart, I'd say. Breathe it out, love, that's a girl. Brie, I think you should call Rogan now. He'll want to meet us at the hospital."
"Oh." For an instant Brianna couldn't think, much less move. "I should call the doctor."
"That'll be fine." Lottie took Maggie's hand, held it tight as Brianna dashed off. "Now, don't you worry. I've helped bring many a baby into this world. Do you have a case packed, Maggie, at home?"
"In the bedroom, yes." She shuddered out a breath as the contraction passed. Odd, she felt calmer now. "In the closet."
"The young man will go fetch it for you. Won't you, dear?"
"Sure." He'd be glad to. It would get him out of the house, away from the terrifying prospect of childbirth. "I'll go get it right now."
"It's all right, Gray." With the new calm cloaking her, Maggie managed a chuckle. "I'm not going to deliver on the kitchen table."
"Right." He gave her an uncertain smile, and fled.
"I'm going to get your jacket now," Lottie told Maggie, and sent Maeve a telling look. "Don't forget your breathing."
"I won't. Thank you, Lottie. I'll be fine." "You're scared." Gently Lottie bent down to cup Maggie's cheek. " 'Tis natural. But what's happening to you is just as natural. Something only a woman can do. Only a woman can understand. The good Lord knows if a man could do it, there'd be fewer people in the world."
The thought made Maggie smile. "I'm only a little scared. And not just of the pain. Of knowing what to do after."
"You'll know. You'll be a mother soon, Margaret Mary. God bless you."
Maggie closed her eyes when Lottie left the room. She could feel the changes inside her body, the magnitude of them. She imagined the changes in her life, the enormity of them. Yes, she would be a mother soon. The child she and Rogan had created would be in her arms instead of her womb.
I love you, she thought. I swear to you I'll only show you love.
The pain began to well again, drawing a low moan from her throat. She squeezed her eyes tighter, concentrated on breathing. Through the haze of pain she felt a hand cover hers. Opening her eyes she saw her mother's face, and tears, and perhaps for the first time in her life, a true understanding.
"I wish you happy, Maggie," Maeve said slowly. "With your child."
For a moment at least, the gap was bridged. Maggie turned her hand over and gripped her mother's palm to palm.
When Gray hurried back, the overnight bag clutched in his hand, Lottie was helping Maggie toward Brianna's car. Every guest in the house was outside, waving them off.
"Oh, thank you for being quick." Brianna snatched the case, then looked around distractedly. "Rogan's on his way to the hospital. He hung up before I could even say goodbye. The doctor said to bring her right in. I have to go with her."
"Of course you do. She'll be fine."
"Yes, she'll be fine." Brianna nibbled on her thumb nail. "I have to leave-all the guests."
"Don't worry about things here. I'll take care of it."
"You can't cook."
"I'll take the lot of them out to dinner. Don't worry, Brie."
"No, it's silly of me. I'm so distracted. I'm so sorry, Gray."
"Don't." Steadier himself, he took her face in his hands. "Don't even think about any of that now. Just go help your sister have a baby."
"I will. Could you call Mrs. O'Malley, please? Her number's in my book. She'll come tend to things until I get home again. And if you'd call Murphy. He'd want to know. And-"
"Brie, go. I'll call the whole county." Despite the audience, he gave her a quick, hard kiss. "Have Rogan send me a cigar."
"Yes. All right, yes, I'm going." She hurried to the car.
Gray stood back and watched her drive away, with Lottie and Maeve following behind.
Families, he thought, with a shake of the head and a shudder. Thank Christ he didn't have to worry about one.
But he worried about her. As afternoon became evening and evening became night. Mrs. O'Malley had come, bustling into the kitchen barely half an hour after his SOS call. Rattling pans, she chattered cheerfully about the childbirth experience, until queasy, Gray had retreated to his room. He fared better when Murphy came down and shared a glass of whiskey with him in toast to Maggie and the baby.
But as the inn grew quiet and the hour late, Gray wasn't able to work or sleep-two activities he'd always used for escape.
Being wakeful gave him too much time to think. However much he wanted to avoid it, the kitchen scene played over and over in his head. What kind of trouble had he caused Brianna simply by wanting her, then acting on the wanting? He hadn't considered her family, or her religion. Did she believe as her mother did?
It made him uneasy to think of souls and eternal damnation. Anything eternal made him uneasy, and damnation certainly topped the list.
Or had Maggie spoken Brianna's mind. That was hardly less disturbing. All that talk of love. From his point of view love could be every bit as dangerous as damnation, and he preferred to dwell on neither on a personal level.
Why couldn't people keep things simple? he wondered as he wandered into Brianna's room. Complications were part and parcel of fiction, but in reality life was so much smoother one day at a time.
But it was stupid, he admitted, and incredibly naive to pretend that Brianna Concannon wasn't a complication. Hadn't he admitted already that she was unique? Restless, he lifted the top off a small bottle on her dresser. And smelled her.
He just wanted to be with her-for the time being, he told himself. They enjoyed each other, liked each other. At this particular time and this particular place, they suited each other well.
Of course, he could back off any time. Of course he could. With a little snarl he shot the top back in the bottle.
But her scent remained with him.
She wasn't in love with him. Maybe she thought she was, because he was her first. That was natural. And maybe, just maybe, he was a little more involved with her than he'd ever been with anyone else. Because she was unlike anyone else. So that was natural, too.
Still and all, when his book was finished, they would have to be finished as well. He'd be moving on. Lifting his head, he stared at himself in the mirror. No surprises there, he thought. It was same face. If there was a faint light of panic in the eyes, he chose to ignore it.
Grayson Thane looked back at him. The man he'd made from nothing. A man he was comfortable with. A man, he told himself now, who moved through life as he chose to move. Free, no baggage, no regrets.
There were memories. He could block the unpleasant ones. He'd been doing that for years. One day, he thought, he'd look back and remember Brianna, and that would be enough.
Why the hell hadn't she called?
He checked himself, turned away from the mirror before he could see something he preferred to avoid. No need for her to call, he told himself and poked through the books on her shelf. It was her business, family busine
ss, and he had no part in it. Wanted no part in it.
He was curious, that was all, about Maggie and the baby. If he was waiting up, it was only to satisfy that curiosity.
Feeling better, he chose a book, stretched out on her bed, and began to read.
Brianna found him there at three A.M. She staggered in on a wave of joy and fatigue to see him asleep on top of her blankets, an open book on his chest. She beamed at him, foolishly, she knew. But it was a night for foolishness.
Quietly she undressed, folded her clothes over a chair, slipped into a nightgown. In the adjoining bath she scrubbed the tiredness from her face. She caught her own grinning reflection in the mirror, and laughed.
Padding back into the bedroom, she bent down to pet Con, who was curled on the rug at the foot of the bed. With a sigh she turned off the light and laid down without bothering to turn down the covers.
He turned to her instantly, his arm draping over her, his face nuzzling her hair. "Brie." His voice was thick with sleep. "Missed you."
"I'm back now." She shifted, curving to him. "Just sleep."
"Hard to sleep without you. Too many old dreams without you."
"Ssh." She stroked him, felt herself start to drift. "I'm right here."
He came fully awake with a snap, blinking, confused. "Brie." He cleared his throat and pushed himself up. "You're back."
"Yes. You fell asleep reading."
"Oh. Yeah." After scrubbing his hands over his face, he squinted to see her in the dim light. It came flooding back. "Maggie?"
"She's fine, she's wonderful. Oh, it was beautiful to see, Gray." Excited all over again, she sat up, wrapped her arms around her knees. "She was cursing Rogan, vowing all sorts of hideous revenge on him. He just kept kissing her hands and telling her to breathe. Then she'd laugh, tell him she loved him, and curse him all over again. I've never seen a man so nervous and awed and loving all at once."
She sighed again, not even aware her cheeks were wet. "There was all this confusion and chattering, arguing, just as you'd expect. Whenever they tried to boot us out, Maggie would threaten to get up and leave herself. 'My family stays,' says she, 'or I go with them.' So we stayed. And it was so... marvellous."
Books by Nora Roberts Page 100