Ryan's Place (15 page)

They’d been there only moments when the neighbor car
ing for Michael came in with him in tow, her face pale and tears welling up in her eyes. She’d still been trying to explain that their parents had disappeared with the twins when the social worker arrived to take over.

They’d gone to an emergency foster care home together that first night. Michael had finally cried himself out and fallen asleep, but Ryan and Sean had huddled together in bed, whispering, trying to make sense of what had happened, trying desperately not to be afraid.

They hadn’t been allowed to go back to their old school, which was across town. Instead, while the social worker tried to locate their parents, they had waited, terrified to ask what would happen if their parents weren’t found.

The memory of what happened next was burned forever into Ryan’s brain. The social worker had lined them all up on the sofa in the foster family’s living room and explained that for now they were going to be wards of the state, that they would be going to new families who would care for them until all the legal issues could be resolved.

Ryan had faced her defiantly. “We’re staying together, though, right?”

“I’m sorry,” she said with sympathy, “but no. We don’t have a home that can take all three of you.”

Sean had stood up then, his arms across his chest. “Then I’m not going,” he said. “I want to be with my brothers.”

“Me, too,” Michael had whispered, his eyes filling with tears, his hand tucked in Ryan’s.

“I wish that were possible,” she replied, her gaze on Ryan. “It will be okay. We’ll look for a place where you can stay together, but it may not be for a while.”

Ryan had heard the finality in her tone and known it was useless to argue. Still, with Sean’s gaze on him, he’d felt as if he had to try. “You don’t understand. Sean and me need to look out for Michael. He’s still little and he’s our responsibility.” It was a lesson that had been ingrained in them from the first time their brother had left the house with them to play. They were to protect him against any eventuality, but they’d never envisioned anything like this.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Sean and Michael will be coming with me now. You’ll stay here tonight. I’ll have a new family ready for you tomorrow.” She’d turned to his brothers and spoken briskly. “Get your things, boys.”

“No,” Sean said, still defiant.

Ryan had looked into the woman’s unrelenting gaze and known it was over. “You don’t have a choice, Sean,” he’d said, defeated. “We have to do what she says.”

Ryan would never forget the look of betrayal in Sean’s eyes as he left. Ryan had watched through the living room window as they drove away, but Sean had never looked back. All of his attention had been focused on Michael, who was sobbing his eyes out.

Ryan hadn’t cried that night or the next, when he’d been transferred to his first official foster home. For weeks he’d asked about his brothers, but the replies had been evasive, and eventually he’d given up. Even at nine he’d known that he was no match for a system run by adults. He’d fought back the only way he knew how—by stirring up trouble everywhere he went.

It had been a childish form of retaliation against people
who’d only wanted to help. He could see that now, but back then it had become a way of life, his only way of lashing back.

Now, staring up at Sean’s apartment, he sighed. How could Sean possibly forgive him when he couldn’t forgive himself for not finding his brothers years ago, for not reuniting them? It didn’t matter that he’d only been nine. As the years passed, he could have found a way.

Maybe Sean hadn’t forgiven him. Maybe the reason Sean had passed along his address was simply because he wanted an opportunity to vent years of pent-up rage. Ryan thought he might even welcome such a reaction. It couldn’t possibly be worse than the anger he’d directed inward all these years.

There was only one way to find out how Sean felt, though. He had to cross the street, walk up the stairs and knock on his door. And he’d do just that…any minute now.

Maggie clutched the address of the apartment across town where Ryan was going to meet his brother. She drove there with her heart in her throat. When she found the block, even though it was after ten o’clock, she spotted Ryan sitting in his car, his shoulders slumped, his gaze locked on the building where his brother lived.

She crossed the street and tapped on his window. “Want some company?”

He rolled the window down, even as he shook his head. “Too late.”

“You’ve already seen him?”

“Nope. I’ve decided this is a bad idea.”

Maggie walked around to the passenger side and slid in. “You’ll never forgive yourself if you get this close and don’t follow through.”

“I’m used to it. There are a lot of things I’ve never forgiven myself for.”

“Such as?”

“I should have stopped them from leaving.”

“Who? Your parents?” she asked incredulously. “You think you could have changed their minds?”

“I should have tried.”

“Did you even know what they were planning?”

“No.”

“Well then, how were you supposed to stop it?”

“I was the oldest. I should have figured out what was going on.”

“You were nine!”

He turned a bleak expression on her. “What if Sean can’t forgive me?”

“First you have to give him a chance. If he doesn’t, then at least you’ve tried.”

He studied her face, then finally drew in a ragged breath, and nodded. “Okay, let’s do it.”

The walk up that sidewalk and into the building was the longest Maggie had ever taken, because Ryan’s tension was palpable. When he knocked on the door, it was opened by a man who was almost his spitting image. His hair was shorter. He didn’t have the scar on his mouth. But there was no mistaking the fact that these two men were brothers.

Maggie held her breath as they stared at each other, sizing each other up, maintaining a reserve that no brothers should ever feel.

“Sean?”

The younger man nodded.

Ryan swallowed hard, then said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I’m Ryan. Your brother.”

For what seemed like an eternity, Sean didn’t reply, but finally, when Maggie was about to give up hope, he opened his arms. “Ah, man, what the hell took you so long?”

R
yan clung to his brother, fighting tears of relief and surprising joy. Never in a million years had he expected to feel this way. He’d anticipated looking into the face of a stranger, feeling no more than a faint twinge of recognition perhaps. Instead, it was as if they’d never been apart, as if on some level the deep connection between them as children had never been broken.

Finally Ryan stood back and surveyed his brother, noting that Sean’s hair was shorter but still had a defiant tendency to curl, just as his did. The eyes were the same as well, though perhaps the blue was a shade deeper.

“I guess you’ve never been in my pub after all,” he said at last. “I’d have known you anywhere. You look like Dad.”

“I look like
you,
” Sean said, making no attempt at all to hide his bitterness at the mention of their father. “Come on
in. The place isn’t fancy, but it’s clean—though only because I’ve been straightening up ever since I got your message last night.” He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Ryan grinned. “I didn’t get much myself.”

“That must be why you’ve been sitting out there in your car for the past half hour,” Sean said with a touch of wit as wry as Ryan’s. “Did you fall asleep?”

“You knew I was there?” Ryan asked, startled.

“I’ve been watching out the window all morning. I saw you drive up.”

“Why didn’t you come out?”

“Stubbornness mainly,” Sean admitted. “I was still mad at you.”

“Past tense?” Ryan asked.

Sean turned his gaze to Maggie, then said, “Only if you introduce me to this beautiful woman who’s been waiting patiently for you to remember her.”

Ryan reached out and clasped Maggie’s hand, pulling her forward. “Sean, this is Maggie O’Brien. She’s the reason I’m here.”

Sean started to shake her hand, then pulled her into a hug instead. “Thank you. I owe you for turning up and getting him out of that car.”

“It went beyond that,” Ryan told him. “But, yes, she did persuade me I’d come too far to turn back this morning.”

“I’m so glad it worked out,” Maggie said, swiping at a tear tracking down her cheek. “I should let you two spend some time alone. You have a lot of catching up to do.”

“No,” Ryan said at once. “Please stay.” He wanted her there as a buffer…and because she deserved to be a part of this reunion.

She glanced from him to Sean. “Is that okay with you?”

“Absolutely. I’ve made a huge pot of coffee. And I bought a pecan coffee cake from the bakery down the street,” he said.

Ryan felt a sharp stab of pain. “Pecan coffee cake was Mom’s favorite,” he said, suddenly remembering.

Sean nodded. “She baked one for every special occasion—our birthdays, Christmas morning, Easter.”

Ryan sighed. “You still think about that, too?”

“I guess so. I’ve been buying coffee cakes all these years.”

He led the way into the kitchen, then handed a knife to Ryan. “You cut the cake. I’ll pour the coffee. Maggie, have a seat.”

For the next hour Ryan and Sean exchanged news about their lives. When Ryan described his pub, Sean glanced at Maggie. “And that’s where the two of you met?”

She nodded and told about her flat tire on Thanksgiving.

“Now she’s trying to take over the place and run my life,” Ryan said.

Sean laughed. “You don’t sound as if you object all that strenuously.”

“I’m getting used to the idea,” Ryan admitted, giving her hand a squeeze.

“On that note I think I really will leave,” Maggie said. “You two stay right here. I can find my way out.”

Ryan’s gaze caught hers. “Will you be at the pub later?”

Maggie smiled. “Of course. Haven’t you just said I’m taking over? Guess that means I can finally start fiddling with your financial records.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Ryan said with feigned ferocity.

“You don’t scare me,” she retorted over her shoulder.

“Hey, Maggie,” he called. When she stepped back into the kitchen, he met her gaze. “I’m glad you came this morning.”

“Any time you need me, chances are I’ll be around somewhere.”

After she’d gone, Ryan saw his brother studying him.

“So, this thing with you and Maggie is serious?” Sean asked.

“As serious as I’ve ever allowed any relationship to be. I love her.”

“Marriage?”

“It’s looking that way,” he admitted.

“I’m really glad for you. She seems like a great woman.”

“You have no idea,” Ryan said. “What about you? Anybody serious in your life?”

“Afraid not. I have
issues,
according to the women I’ve dated.”

Ryan laughed. “Yeah, join the club. Maggie didn’t seem to care. She badgered me until the issues didn’t seem so damned important anymore. You’ll find someone like that one of these days. Start dropping by the pub. I’ve got some regulars there who’d probably swoon at the sight of you.”

“I’m not interested in your rejects,” Sean retorted, grinning. “I can find my own women. I just can’t keep ’em.” His expression suddenly sobered. “Have you ever looked for the others?”

“Not until now. You?”

Sean shook his head. “I didn’t think I ever wanted to see any of you again till I heard your voice. Michael’s the one I really wonder about. He was so scared the last time I saw him, and he couldn’t stop crying. He kept trying to run back to me, but they wouldn’t let him. It’s an image I’ve never been able to shake. All these years I kept praying that he adapted, maybe even ended up with an adoptive family. He was still so little, I told myself that he’d forget all about us. Do you think he did?”

“I try not to think about it,” Ryan said tightly.

“Maybe we should think about it,” Sean said. “I know how I’ve felt all this time, as if I was waiting and waiting for someone to come looking for me and pretending it didn’t matter when no one did.”

Ryan was filled with that familiar sense of overwhelming guilt. “I’m sorry, Sean. It should have been me. I should have looked a long time ago.”

His brother shook his head. “No, man, Mom and Dad are the ones who should have looked. Hell, they never should have left in the first place. What were they thinking?”

“I have no idea, and to be perfectly honest, I don’t give a damn.”

Sean blinked at the vehement response. “Really? You honestly don’t care why they did what they did?”

“The point is, they did it. The reason hardly matters.”

Sean let the matter drop. A grin tugged at his lips. “I still can’t believe you have your own pub and it’s only a couple of miles from here.”

“We have great Irish music on Fridays and Saturdays. Will you come by this weekend?”

“Will your Maggie be around to keep me company?” he asked.

“You heard her. She’ll likely be there, but don’t be getting any ideas about her.”

“I didn’t see a ring on her finger,” Sean teased.

Ryan chuckled. “You always did want whatever I had, and most of the time I let you have it. Not this time. Stay away from Maggie.”

“I imagine you have to give that warning to a lot of men.”

“More than you can imagine,” Ryan agreed.

“Then marry her and end the problem,” Sean encouraged.
“I saw the love shining in her eyes earlier. I don’t think you’ll get any argument from her.”

Ryan thought of his intention to find the rest of his family and reassure himself that there were no hidden health risks. “One of these days I will,” he said.

“Don’t wait too long,” Sean warned him. “One of the things I’ve learned as a firefighter is just how short life can be. It’s not something to be wasted.”

“Look at you,” Ryan teased, “giving advice to your big brother.”

“I was always the smart one,” Sean retorted.

“Yeah, right. The truth is, Michael was smarter than both of us.”

Sean sighed. “He was, wasn’t he? Remember how he used to plan strategies for winning whenever we played war games? He was only four, and a runt at that, but he was the only kid I ever knew who could maneuver us into a trap in the blink of an eye, even when we were watching out for it.” He looked at Ryan. “Is your detective looking for him?”

Ryan nodded. “No luck so far.” Reluctantly he glanced at the clock and realized that he needed to get back. The pub would be opening soon. Besides, he needed to get away and spend a little time absorbing the miraculous way this morning had gone. “I need to get to work. You’ll come by soon, though, right?”

“I’m working this weekend, but next Friday for sure. I want to hear that Irish band you’ve been bragging about. I haven’t heard a really good rendition of ‘Danny Boy’ since Dad used to sing it in the shower.”

Ryan grinned despite himself. “He did like to sing, didn’t he? And he had a voice that could make people weep, it was so beautiful.” He regarded Sean with surprise. “You know, I
think that’s the first time I’ve thought of him in years without a lot of anger welling up inside me.”

“I got tired of hating him years ago,” Sean admitted. “But I never could bring myself to look for him, or any of the rest of you. Probably stubbornness as much as anything. I’m glad you took the initiative. One of these days that detective of yours will come through.”

“Let’s just pray we don’t regret it,” Ryan said.

“How could we? It’s turned out pretty good so far, hasn’t it?”

Ryan drew his brother into a hug. “Yeah, better than good, in fact.”

Maggie kept glancing at the door of the pub, hoping that Ryan would appear. When the time came to open and he still wasn’t back, she consulted with Rory and Maureen, and they insisted on opening without him.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said, but it didn’t feel right.

It was dinnertime and the pub was hopping when Ryan finally walked through the door. He didn’t seem the least bit surprised to see that everything was running as smoothly as usual. He simply took his place behind the bar.

As relieved as Maggie was, she still wanted to smack him for worrying her. The first chance she had, she swung by and announced, “I have a few choice words for you, mister.”

To her surprise he grinned. “Are any of them ‘I love you’?”

“That’s at the end of the list,” she said.

He sighed dramatically. “Then, you might as well start now, so we can get to the end.”

“I would, but in case you haven’t noticed, the place is packed. I have customers who are already wondering where I am with their drinks.”

He gave her a wry look. “Then you might be wanting to give me their order.”

Maggie frowned and handed it over, tapping her foot impatiently while he filled it. Eventually he slid the tray toward her, then tucked his finger beneath her chin. “Thank you for worrying about me.”

“Who said anything about worrying?” she grumbled.

“I might not have much experience with it, but I do recognize it,” he said. “I’m sorry I was late. I needed to think.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all. As you can see, I did not run my car in a ditch. There’s not a scratch on me.”

“And your cell phone? Is the battery on that dead?”

“I ought to say it is,” he said, his gaze locked with hers, “but I won’t lie to you, Maggie. Not ever.”

She gave a curt nod. “That’s something, then.”

She hurried away with the drinks, not because the customers were truly likely to be impatient, but because she didn’t want him to see just how happy his explanation had made her. He needed to sweat a little longer for making her worry herself sick. He needed to understand that what he did—or didn’t do—mattered to her.

It was hours before they had another free minute. Maggie’s feet and back were aching from hauling the heavy trays around all evening, but it was a good kind of exhaustion, the kind that came from doing satisfying work.

She was just about to collapse into a chair and put her feet up, when Rory emerged from the kitchen, his face ashen.

“Um, you guys,” he said in a choked voice, “I think Rosita’s having the baby.”

“Now? In the
kitchen?
” Juan asked, racing for the door.

Maggie took one look at Rory’s panicked expression and stood up. “Sit before you faint.” She pushed him onto a chair.

He gave her a pained look and popped right back up. “I’m not going to faint. And nobody has time to sit. She’s in labor, and I do not want that baby born in my kitchen. Is that clear?”

Ryan patted him on the back. “Nobody’s going to have a baby here,” he said. “I’ve already called for an ambulance. Maggie, why don’t you go in there and make sure Rosita’s okay?”

She frowned at him. “Sure, when it comes to babies, you big, strong men want to leave it all up to us,” she grumbled, but she headed for the kitchen.

She found Rosita on the floor, clutching her stomach, her face contorted as another contraction washed over her. “How far apart are the contractions?” Maggie asked.

“Very fast,” Juan answered, clutching Rosita’s hand and looking dazed. He slipped into Spanish, then caught himself. “This is the second one since I’ve come in here.”

Maggie swallowed hard. That meant they had to be less than two minutes apart. Unless the paramedics arrived in record time, they were going to be delivering the baby here, after all. She knelt beside Rosita and took her other hand. Forcing a reassuring note into her voice, she said, “Don’t worry. It’s going to be okay.” She looked at Juan. “Tell Rory to get in here to boil some water. Tell Ryan to bring down all the towels he has upstairs.”

Within a minute the kitchen was bustling with activity. The last customers had been told to send the paramedics in the instant they arrived, but by the time that happened, Rosita’s baby—a boy with a full head of dark hair—was already slipping into Maggie’s hands.

“Oh, my. Look how beautiful he is,” she whispered, her
eyes filling with tears as she handed him to the emergency medical technician, who made quick work of getting a lusty wail from him. She felt Ryan’s arm slide around her waist.

“Is everything okay?” she asked the EMT.

“Looks fine to me,” he said, grinning at her. “You might want to consider a new career.”

“I don’t think so,” she said shakily, then looked at Ryan. “The only births I want to handle from here on out will be my own kids.”