Kissing Maggie Silver (9 page)

Maggie let him talk on, only half listening as she busied herself in the kitchen, determined to ge
t some proper food into him now he could eat without worrying about his new son. As she weighed out pasta and then chopped garlic and tomatoes, her mind made its inevitable circle back to Ruairi.

How would he have reacted if it had been his son? Did he even want a son?
Despite being sure he was just sticking around out of a sense of duty, she had to acknowledge he was good with children, even seemed to like them. The feeling appeared to be mutual too, if Sophie and Amy were anything to go by. They had hung onto his hands chattering nineteen-to-the-dozen as they walked along, and they had clambered willingly up onto his shoulders whenever they got the chance.

She was draining the pasta when she suddenly remembered Johanna, the tall, slim, blonde who was shortly to fly in from New Zealand.
She put the saucepan down with a bang. How could she have forgotten her? It was obvious she was the person Ruairi thought of when he thought about his future; why else would he have gone to so much trouble to find her an apartment? Johanna had to be the woman who would eventually give him children and turn him into a family man instead of a rover.

“Mark…food’s on the table,” she deliberately pushed the painful thoughts of Ruairi and Johanna to the back of her mind as she called to her brother, who, after pouring out all his hopes and fears to her, had taken himself off to the study to telephone the rest of the family.

He came when she called him
even though the phone was still clamped to his ear. “I promise you everything’s fine,” he was saying. “No! No! You certainly do not need to return home. Maggie has everything under control and Ruairi is helping out too, and Mrs. O’Connor. Everything is fine Mum. Just enjoy the cruise and tell Dad to order some champagne so you can both wet your new grandson’s head.”

He grinned at Maggie as he cut the connection.
“Thank goodness I was able to give her good news. I don’t want to think about what she might have done if the baby was really sick.”

“Me neither,” Maggie placed a bowl of pasta in front of him as well as a small dish of grated Parmesan cheese.

“Thanks sis, this looks great,” he tucked in hungrily. Then he looked at her. “Aren’t you having some too?”

“No…I’m not…I mean I ate earlier,” Maggie stretched the truth to breaking point because she had no intention of telling him she wasn’t hungry and that she didn’t ever expect to feel hungry again, at least not while Ruairi O’Connor was anywhere near the vicinity of her heart.

* * *

When Maggie awoke the following morning she discovered Amy and rabbit had already joined her while Sophie was rooting through the pile of books she had left on the floor beside the bed the previous day.

“More stories,” demanded Amy as soon as she opened her eyes.

“More stories,” agreed Maggie, glad to be too occupied to worry about how she was going to cope with having to spend at least part of another day with Ruairi.
She’d fallen asleep thinking about him and although she couldn’t remember the detail, she knew he’d invaded her dreams. Consequently she hadn’t slept well, and now she felt tired and stiff. One of her legs cramped as she stretched and she rubbed it hard. Then she settled down with the children to read the stories Sophie had chosen.

Mark came into the bedroom sometime later carrying a mug of tea. He laughed when he saw the three of them snuggled together, the little girls wide-eyed as they listened to Maggie using different voices for the various characters in the
story she was reading.

“Look at you. I’m not sure who is enjoying it the most. It’s difficult to believe you are the grown up Maggie.
A good job Ruairi can’t see you now or he might think he has three children to look after.”

And that just about sums it up thought Maggie gloomily as she reached for her mug of tea.
Ruairi does think he has three children to look after, that’s why he is being so long suffering. He’s being Uncle Ruairi to the three of us.

* * *

“Are you nearly ready Mum?” Ruairi tried not to let his irritation show as he waited for his mother to collect her handbag and summer jacket. After all there was no deadline. They weren’t in any sort of hurry, so why the impatience? It was Maggie of course. He wanted to see her again, and as soon as possible, and he couldn’t remember ever feeling this way about anyone before.

He wanted some time alone with her
too. He wanted to really get to know her again, to understand the grown up Maggie. Maybe if he did that then he would get things in perspective and break the spell she seemed to have cast over him. The problem was getting some time alone with her. There was always someone else around and because of the way things were with June and the baby it didn’t look as if that was going to change any time soon.

He opened the door as his mother finally announced she was ready and led the way into the corridor.
He glanced down at her. She looked so happy that he felt a bit ashamed it had taken Maggie to suggest she join them for the day; Maggie to realize how much she had enjoyed seeing the children at the hotel yesterday and follow it up. He would have carried on believing her when she told him she had plans to meet up with all her old friends and that he should get on with his own life while she enjoyed her holiday in her own way. Her obvious delight when he had passed on Maggie’s invitation, and the speed at which she had cancelled a proposed visit to a former neighbor so she could join them, had made him think long and hard, however. So had the newly stirred memory of his long dead sister.

Although he barely remembered Colleen, he could remember his mother being sad for what had seemed to be a very long time.
He’d always known, too, that his parents would have liked more children but that for some reason they couldn’t have them. Now he realized it was why they’d always kept an open house for all his friends. He recalled his childhood as they made their way to the elevator and remembered a house bursting at the seams with other people’s children as his parents did their best to make up for the fact that he was an only child. The memory made him realize how selfish he had become. Why had he not seen how sad his mother’s life was now she was alone? All she had were memories, and a son who rarely visited. No grandchildren, no extended family. No wonder she wanted to spend time with Sophie and Amy.

He followed her into the elevator and listened to her plans for the day while it took them down to the underground car park. Nodding and smiling he directed her towards his hire car, half wishing he wasn’t also nursing an ulterior motive. Although he was ashamed he hadn’t given his mother more than a passing thought while he spent his time with Maggie, now that she was included he hoped she’d look after the children for a
couple of hours so he could take Maggie out to lunch. Not that he had any intention of letting her or Maggie know his plans. He was just going to trust his instincts and count on his mother making the suggestion herself.

He wasn’t sure why he was being so reticent.
After all, his mother would be happy to oblige if he asked her outright. She would be thrilled if he showed an interest in Maggie too, except, of course, that was the problem. A couple of dates with Maggie and she would be talking weddings and bridesmaids. It had always been the same. So desperate was she for grandchildren that ever since he could remember she had honed in on any girl he mentioned, so she certainly wasn’t going to make an exception of Maggie.

He unlocked the car and settled her into the passenger seat before walking round to the driver’s door.
He opened it with a sigh. No! There was no way he was going to talk to her about Maggie, not when he had no intention of doing anything more than take her out to lunch. They were old friends catching up and that was all there was to it.

Chapter Eight

The morning passed without incident. Using some bits and pieces of wood he found in Mark’s garage, Ruairi busied himself building a den for the children. They pretended to help while running around the garden in a frenzy of excitement and shouting out random orders.

“It must be big,” Amy yelled.

“With a proper roof and stairs and everything,” said Sophie as she paused for breath.

Ruairi reappeared from inside the slightly lopsided construction.
“I don’t think I can quite manage that,” he told her with a chuckle of amusement. “But I might manage a window and a door.”

“Can we live in it?” asked Amy.

Sophie was scathing. “Course not ‘cos there aren’t any bedrooms but I ‘spect we’ll eat dinner there,” she said, with a hopeful look in Maggie’s direction.

Maggie, who was trying to keep Ruairi out of her line of vision as much as possible, was sitting on a garden chair chatting to Mrs
. O’Connor over a cup of coffee so she didn’t hear Sophie’s request.

Ruairi did though and he straightened up thoughtfully.
“How about it?” he said, walking over to where Maggie and his mother were sitting.

“How about what?” Her conversation interrupted, Maggie glared up at him from behind her sunglasses, wishing for the umpteenth time that the black denims and T-shirt he was wearing didn’t have the effect of making him
look more devastating than usual.

“Sophie thinks the den will be a good place to eat her lunch once it’s finished.”

Mrs. O’Connor leapt in before Maggie could speak. “What a good idea. Would she be wanting a picnic perhaps?”

“Yes! Yes! We can have a den picnic…a den picnic…a den picnic,” Sophie chanted as she fixed her
aunt with a fierce stare that dared her to disagree.

Maggie laughed.
“Of course you can but you’ll have to help me get it ready. Let’s go and see what’s in the fridge.”

Mrs
. O’Connor joined them as they made their way back to the house. “I’m sorry my dear. I shouldn’t have jumped in like that without checking with you. It’s just that it’s so like old times having children around, making things with them, seeing them enjoy themselves, that I didn’t stop to think.”

Maggie, hearing the wistful note in her voice, shook her head.
“It’s not a problem. I would have said yes anyway. I remember how much I loved having picnics in the playhouse that….” her voice trailed away as she remembered it was Ruairi who had built her a den when she was a child.

Marie O’Connor chuckled as she reminisced. “He hasn’t really changed has he, despite all his travelling.
Look at him! Just as determined to get it right now as he was years ago when he was building things for you, although he’s a bit better at it this time around.”

Forced to stand still and look at what Ruairi had managed to concoct with a few pieces of wood, some nails, and some flattened cardboard boxes, Maggie had to agree.
Not that the wonkiness of her own childhood den and the way it had leaned precariously against the fence had ever bothered her. She’d thought it was absolutely perfect the same as she’d thought Ruairi was absolutely perfect. She wondered about it now though. Had she hero-worshipped him just because he’d been so different from her brothers, or had there been more to it than that? Could a small girl fall in love? Had the hours they’d spent together when she was a child sowed the seeds of the feelings she had for him now?

“This feels a bit like old times,” his job finished, Ruairi joined them
, interrupting her thoughts. He was holding Mark’s toolbox. He looked at Maggie. “Do you remember?”

“Of course I d
o, except I’m sure my den was a bit more substantial than this one because although it got more and more battered every winter, it still lasted for several years,” she couldn’t stop the smile the memory triggered despite her uncomfortable thoughts.

“That’s because I didn’t have to rely on cardboard for the walls!
This one will be history as soon as it rains, whereas your Dad gave me the run of his tool shed, something he regretted when he realized I’d used nearly all his spare pieces of wood.”

“And you found an old tarpaulin in the attic
too,” his mother reminded him. “Somehow you managed to drag it down the ladder and then you fixed it over everything. You said it would make it more weatherproof. I remember Maggie being so excited about it.”

“Me too!” Ruairi agreed
with a sly look at Maggie. “And then she took to hiding there whenever she was in trouble, which just goes to show she had no imagination whatsoever because after the first couple of times everyone always knew exactly where to find her.”

“Excuse me
, both of you, but I am here you know,” Maggie reminded them. “Besides, I never was in any sort of trouble.”

Such a blatant denial made them all laugh and by the time they reached the kitchen, despite Maggie’s determination to keep Ruairi at arm’s length, the warm memories of the past had enveloped them all, so when Marie O’Connor suggested
they went out to lunch while she and the children had a picnic in the den, Maggie couldn’t find the words to refuse her kind offer.

* * *

Trying very hard not to look too pleased with himself, Ruairi slotted his car into the one remaining space in the car park and killed the engine. At last he could spend some time alone with Maggie. Admittedly it was only for a couple of hours at the local inn, but it was better than nothing. Apart from anything else, he hoped it would be long enough to find out why she had waxed so hot and cold this morning: cool and distant one minute and friendly the next. And long enough, too, to ask her about her travel plans, where she was going and for how long. Then, if there was any time left, he was going to talk about his next assignment. If he put enough enthusiasm into telling her about his forthcoming trip to Mexico then perhaps he would manage to persuade himself it was a good idea and start to look forward to it, instead
of spending all his time wondering why he wanted to put so many miles between himself and the people he loved.