by Nora Roberts
"He's working. Locked himself in as defense against the little German girl who kept wandering into his room." She smiled over it. "He's a darling with children. He played Chutes and Ladders with her last night, so she's fallen in love with him and won't leave him in peace."
"And you're thinking what a fine father he'll make."
Brianna pokered up. "I didn't say that. But he would. You should see how he-" She broke off when she heard the front door open. "If that's more guests, I'll have to give them my room and sleep in the parlor."
"You can just stop playing musical beds and sleep in Gray's," Maggie commented, then winced when she recognized the voices coming down the hall. "Ah, perfect. I'd hoped she'd changed her mind and stayed in France."
"Stop it," Brianna warned and took out more cups for tea.
"The world travelers are back," Lottie said cheerfully as she trailed Maeve into the kitchen. "Oh, what a fine place you have there, Maggie. Like a palace it is. What a wonderful time we had."
"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.