Ryan's Place (3 page)

“I can’t be too good,” she retorted. “You didn’t answer most of them.”

“So what sort of career do you think you’d find creatively satisfying?” he continued. “Are there any options on the table?”

She grinned. “Trying to turn things around on me, Mr. Devaney?”

He laughed. “Every bartender has a bit of the psychologist in him. The difference is, we just ask questions and listen. We don’t dole out advice. Now let’s get this stuff inside before we both freeze to death.”

“We’ll go around back,” she said, leading the way. “A lot of this needs to wind up in the kitchen, anyway.”

He noted that there was a light on in one of the front windows, as well as another in the kitchen, beaming out a welcome for the latecomer. A little tug of envy spread through him even before a tall woman with a face only barely more lined than Maggie’s threw open the kitchen door and held out her arms.

“There you are,” she said, enveloping Maggie in a fierce hug. “I’ve been so worried.”

“Mom, I called less than forty minutes ago to let you know I was on my way,” Maggie reminded her, amusement threading through her voice. “I’m actually about ten minutes earlier than I predicted.”

“Which means you must have been speeding, young man,”
the woman chastised, turning to Ryan with a twinkle in eyes as bright and as green as her daughter’s. “I’m Nell O’Brien. And you must be Mr. Devaney. It was kind of you to bring Maggie to us, even if you did exceed the speed limit getting her here.”

“No, ma’am, I can assure you there was no speeding involved,” he responded seriously. “I had it on cruise control the whole time.”

She laughed at that. “But set at what speed?”

Ryan met her gaze. “You’re not a cop, are you?” he teased, liking her at once. She reminded him of…He bit back a sigh. Best not to go there. He’d stopped thinking about his mother on the day she’d abandoned him. Or at least he’d tried to.

“No, but I’ve had a lot of experience at intimidating young men,” Mrs. O’Brien said. “I have four daughters and two sons, all of whom need to have someone in firm control.”

Ryan couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “If Maggie here is any indication, I imagine that’s true.”

“Hey,” Maggie protested. “I was the dutiful oldest daughter.”

“When it suited you,” her mother concurred. “Now get in here, both of you. I have coffee made, but if you’d prefer something else, I can fix it in no time.”

“Nothing for me,” Ryan said, already backing toward the door. The warmth of this big, cheerful kitchen, the teasing between mother and daughter—these were exactly the kind of things he tried to avoid. They brought up too many painful memories. “I need to be getting back to home.”

“Absolutely not,” Mrs. O’Brien said. “It’s much too late to be on the road, Mr. Devaney. You must be exhausted. I’ll make up the couch in the den. And before you try arguing with me, remember that I’m older and wiser and I will not be ignored.”

“If you’re not a cop, you must be a general,” Ryan said.

“Just a woman who knows what’s best,” Nell countered with a serene smile. “You two stay in here and have something to drink and a snack. I’ll go on up to bed after I’m done in the den. Your father will want to know you arrived safely, Maggie. Besides, I have to be up at dawn to cook that bird.” She winked at Maggie. “Your father bought a huge one that’s probably not going to fit in the oven, which means I’ll have to surgically dissect the thing, then patch it back together after it’s cooked so he won’t know.”

Ryan saw his chance for escape coming right after Mrs. O’Brien disappeared for the night, but one look at Maggie had him hesitating.

“Don’t even think about,” she said, her gaze locked with his.

“Think about what?” he asked vaguely, his thoughts scrambling.

“Sneaking away in the dead of night.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Because tomorrow’s going to be a busy day as it is. I don’t want to have to spend a chunk of it hunting you down and dragging you back here.”

“So this is purely selfish on your part,” he said, taking a step closer to the dangerous fire in her eyes. There was something about her—an exuberance, a warmth—that made him want to take risks he normally avoided.

“It is,” she said, her gaze unflinching.

“Maggie, I did you a small favor. You don’t owe me anything. Besides, I have plans for tomorrow, and the day starts early. I really do need to be getting back.”

Surprise flickered in her eyes then. “You have plans?”

He was vaguely insulted by her obvious shock. “I’m not totally hopeless and alone.”

She blinked and backed up a step. “Yes, of course. I should have realized,” she said, clearly embarrassed.

Ryan should have let her go on thinking that those plans involved another woman, which was clearly the conclusion she’d reached. That would have been the smart, safe way to go. Instead, he found himself explaining.

“I’m taking food to the homeless shelter run by St. Mary’s. Everything has to be set up by noon, which means an early start. And, as we discussed in the car, the pub opens at four for the regulars who don’t have anyplace else to go. Not to mention that tonight’s paperwork didn’t get done, nor were the receipts counted.”

She nodded and something that might have been relief flashed across her face. “What a wonderful thing to do,” she said, apparently seizing on the planned meal for the homeless. “Can you use some help at the shelter?”

Help was always in short supply, but Ryan hesitated. It would be better to stop things here and now with this woman who had the determination of a pit bull and who seemed eager and able to slip past all his defenses.

“Of course you can,” she said, without waiting for his reply. “We’ll be at the shelter by ten.”

“‘We’?”

“My family, except for Mom, of course. She’ll need to stay here with that humongous bird, but everyone else will want to pitch in. It works out perfectly. I’ll have one of my brothers bring along a spare for my car, too.”

Ryan searched desperately for a subtle way to change her mind. “Shouldn’t your family be pitching in around here?”

“Mom refuses to let anyone else into the kitchen. She says we just get in the way. Besides, I brought a lot of food tonight that only needs to go in the oven. Everyone else will bring dishes, too. She really has only the turkey to contend with.” Maggie regarded him intently. “Don’t even think of turning me down. I owe you.”

“You don’t,” he repeated, even though he knew he was wasting his breath.

Besides, one part of him—a very big part—was suddenly looking forward to Thanksgiving in a way that he hadn’t since he was eight years old. That was the last holiday his family had spent together. By Christmas that year, he’d been with a foster family, and he’d had no idea at all where his parents or his brothers were.

And nothing in his life had been the same since.

“L
ate night last night?” Rory inquired as he and Ryan loaded food into a van to take it to the homeless shelter. “You look a wee bit under the weather.”

Ryan scowled at his cook’s apparent amusement. “I did a favor for Father Francis. It kept me out until after 3:00 a.m.”

“And did this favor happen to involve a lovely redheaded lass?”

Ryan gave him a sour look.

“I thought so. Why is it that Father Francis never thinks of me when a beauty like that comes along?” Rory lamented.

“Perhaps because he’s well aware of your tendency to break the heart of any woman you go out with,” Ryan told him. “You’ve earned a bit of a reputation in your time among us, Rory, me lad.”

“Undeserved, every word of it,” Rory insisted.

“Then why do I have a steady stream of women at the bar crying into their beers over you?”

“I can’t help it if I’m a babe magnet,” the cook said with a perfectly straight face.

The irony was that despite his round shape and fiery temperament, forty-year-old Rory attracted more than his share of women. Ryan suspected it had something to do with his clever way with words and his genuine appreciation of the fair sex. Rory’s problem was that he appreciated a few too many females at one time. The drama of the breakups frequently spilled from the kitchen into the pub. Oddly enough, even after the blowups, the women kept coming around. Rory treated each and every one of them with the same cheerful affection.

“I can hardly wait for you to fall head-over-heels in love,” Ryan told him. “I truly hope the woman makes you jump through hoops, so I can sit on the sidelines and enjoy the entertainment.”

“I feel the same where you’re concerned,” Rory responded. He regarded Ryan with a speculative look. “So, has this redheaded angel of Father Francis’s well and truly caught your eye? Or am I free to pursue her next time she stops in?”

“Stay away from Maggie,” Ryan retorted, unable to keep a fiercely possessive note out of his voice. He swore to himself that he was only thinking of Maggie’s heart, not his own.

Rory grinned. “So, that’s the way of it? Father Francis will be pleased to know that his clever machinations have worked at last. Can it be that our Ryan has finally found a woman who can hold his interest beyond a one-night stand?”

Ryan scowled at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. I barely know the woman.”

“Has there ever been an Irishman born who doesn’t believe
that a lightning bolt can strike at any time? Love doesn’t always require years of nurturing to blossom, you know.”

“Thanks for the unsolicited lesson,” Ryan said dryly.

“I have much more wisdom I could impart,” Rory claimed cheerfully. “But why should I waste it on a man who’s determined to go through life alone?”

“You know, if you don’t learn to watch your tongue, I could fire you.”

“But you won’t,” Rory said confidently. “Who would cook your authentic Irish cuisine?”

“Maybe I’ll change the menu,” Ryan said, thinking of the newest addition to his staff.

“Not bloody likely,” Rory said.

“I don’t know. I’ve got someone coming by tomorrow. Father Francis thinks she’ll do rather well.”

Rory frowned. “Another cook?”

“Yes.”

“And would this be the angelic Maggie, by any chance?” Rory inquired hopefully.

“Absolutely not.”

“Is she from Ireland, at least?”

“No.”

“Well, there you go. How good can she be?”

“I’ve heard only raves,” Ryan said honestly. “She’s supposed to be excellent, so of course I hired her sight unseen.”

“She’s not coming for an interview? You’ve already hired a woman you’ve never even met for my kitchen?” Rory demanded, clearly horrified. “I can’t have some stranger—and a woman at that—underfoot all day.”

“Why not? Will she be a distraction? Surely you can rise above your need to make a play for anything wearing skirts,
especially since this one’s married. And just in case you’re tempted, you should know that her husband will be working in front.” He gave Rory a steady look. “I don’t think it will be a problem, do you? There are some lines not even you will cross.”

Rory groaned. “These are more of Father Francis’s strays, aren’t they? I suppose we will find them at the shelter today, am I right?”

Ryan saw little point in denying it. He nodded. He considered telling Rory the rest, that his new helper barely spoke English and prepared only Mexican dishes, but decided his friend had had enough of a shock for the moment. Instead, he simply reminded him that there was a replacement waiting in the wings. “So, let that be a warning to keep a civil tongue in your head. And when you meet her today, be nice.”

“When am I not kind to everyone who works at the pub?” Rory demanded indignantly.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “You don’t want me to answer that, do you?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll be nice.” He regarded Ryan curiously. “Are you going to be seeing Maggie again?”

“She says she’s going to bring her family to help out at the shelter today,” he admitted ruefully.

“Well now, isn’t that splendid? Father Francis will have yet another blessing to count on Thanksgiving.”

“Go to hell, Rory.”

To Ryan’s disgust, the big man merely laughed. As far as Ryan could see, this was not a laughing matter. He was apparently surrounded by matchmakers who were going to take a great deal of delight in seeing him squirm. And they’d both
handpicked Maggie for the task of accomplishing it, quite possibly because they’d both seen what he hadn’t been willing to admit—that he was attracted to her.

The noise level in the O’Brien dining room was at an all-time high, with squealing toddlers scrambling for Maggie’s attention and her brothers fighting for the biggest share of her mother’s pancakes. It was all music to her ears, even if she couldn’t seem to get a word in edgewise.

When her third attempt to interrupt the nonstop bickering fell on deaf ears, Maggie sent a beseeching look toward her mother.

“Enough!” Nell O’Brien said without even raising her voice to be heard above the din. It was her quiet, emphatic tone that caused even the littlest grandchild to fall silent. The skill had to be something she’d acquired in the classroom to control unruly college students. Clearly satisfied by the effect, she said mildly, “I think Maggie has something she’d like to say.”

“Since when does Maggie require your intervention?” Matthew asked. “Speak up, sis. You’ve never been shy about telling us to shut up before.”

“You’ve never been this noisy before, and I’m out of practice,” she retorted. “Okay, here’s the deal. I more or less promised that we’d spend this morning helping at a homeless shelter in the city.”

“Promised who?” Matthew demanded with more curiosity than resentment.

“Must be that handsome man who brought her home last night,” her sister Colleen said with a smug expression. “Mom says after meeting him last night, her heart was still all aflutter this morning. I’m sorry I missed him. Count me in, Maggie. I want to get a look at any guy who can make Mom swoon.”

“There’s definitely a man involved?” their oldest brother, John, asked. “Then we all go, am I right? We can’t have a stranger breaking our Maggie’s heart.”

“This has nothing to do with anyone breaking my heart,” Maggie said. “It’s about helping those less fortunate on Thanksgiving.”

“That may be
your
reason for going,” John conceded. “Mine’s less pure.”

“Mine, too,” Colleen said. “My heart hasn’t gone pitter-pat over a man in ages.”

“Thanks a lot,” her husband said, frowning at her.

Colleen grinned at him. “I meant for a man other than
you,
of course.”

Daniel leaned over and planted a noisy kiss on her lips. “That’s better, love.”

“What’s this about a handsome man?” Katie, the youngest O’Brien, inquired as she returned from the kitchen with a glass of orange juice. “Where? Can I meet him?”

“He’s entirely too old for you,” Maggie said.

“That’s the truth,” her father chimed in. “Our Katie’s not to even think of looking at a man until she’s at least twenty-five. She’s our baby.”

Katie rolled her eyes. “Dad, I’m twenty-four, and I hate to break it to you, but I’m already dating and have been for some years now.”

“Dating, yes, but you’ve a full year to go before you even think of getting serious about anyone. Besides, this Ryan fellow is Maggie’s,” he said with a grin aimed at Maggie.

“He’s hardly that,” Maggie protested. “We’ve just met.”

“But you’re interested enough to be dragging us all the way to Boston on Thanksgiving,” her father said. He turned to her
mother. “Nell, what do you think? Is this man worthy of our Maggie’s attention?”

With a wink in Maggie’s direction, her mother placed her hand over her heart. “If I were just a few years younger…” she began, only to be cut off by her husband.

“Nell O’Brien, shame on you, saying such a thing in front of me, the man who’s given you all these fine children, to say nothing of nearly thirty years of my life.”

“Darling, I’m old and I’m married, not dead,” she teased. “Ryan Devaney is a handsome devil. You’ll see.”

“So it’s settled? You’ll all go?” Maggie asked, not as concerned about her brothers’ declared motives as she probably should have been. They talked big, but they’d stay in line. Her father would see to it.

“Of course,” her father said. “You knew we would.” He turned to his wife. “You’ll be okay without our help for a few hours?”

“I’ll be relieved to have you all out from underfoot,” she said.

“What about the kids? You can’t be looking after all of them, as well,” her father said. He gazed around the crowded table. “Which one of you will stay to help out?”

“Garrett O’Brien, the day I can’t look after three toddlers is the day they’ll be putting me in my grave,” her mother retorted. “I raised this bunch of hellions with little or no help, didn’t I?”

“Then it’s settled,” her father announced. “We’ll be leaving in an hour. That will put us there by ten. Is that what you promised, Maggie?”

“Yes, Dad. Thanks.” She turned a narrowed gaze on her brothers. “And when you meet Ryan Devaney, I expect you to be on your best behavior. Is that understood?”

“When have we not been perfect gentlemen around your boyfriends?” Matt inquired indignantly.

“Well, there was the time we ran off that Carson fellow,” John conceded.

“He was a wuss,” Matt countered. “She was better off without him. Okay, aside from that one incident, have there been any others?”

“Just see that this isn’t one of those times when your protective instincts kick into gear,” Maggie pleaded. She shot a warning look at Katie. “And you remember what Dad said.”

A grin spread across her sister’s face. “You are staking your claim, then?” She turned to their father. “Told you I could make her admit it. That’ll be five bucks, please.”

Maggie stared at the two of them. “You already knew about Ryan and you had a bet going?”

“Well, of course we did,” Katie said. “It’s taken you practically forever to show an interest in anyone.”

“I’m picky.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I was beginning to worry that I’d have to explain to my children about their poor old aunt Maggie living all alone up in Maine in a cold and lonely spinster’s cottage.”

“I ought to make you stay home today,” Maggie declared.

“As if you could,” Katie responded. “Watching you get all starry-eyed over some man is going to be better than watching you stuffing tissues in the bodice of your prom dress.”

“Katie O’Brien, that was supposed to be our secret forever,” Maggie said, as everyone at the table hooted.

“Which just goes to prove you should never trust a kid sister,” Katie retorted.

“I’ll remember that. Just wait till you bring home the man of your dreams,” Maggie said direly.

“Now, girls, that’s enough squabbling,” their father said,
ever the peacemaker. “Today’s a day to be grateful for family.”

“And I am,” Maggie said. “At least all family except my traitorous baby sister.”

Now not only did she have to worry about Ryan’s reaction to her arrival at the shelter, but which one of her family members was likely to be first to try to embarrass her.

The St. Mary’s Shelter was just down the block from the church. When Maggie and her family arrived, it was already bustling with activity. Even so, Father Francis spotted her the minute she walked in and came over with a welcoming smile.

“Ryan mentioned you might be here this morning. Thank you for spending part of your holiday with us. It’s a generous thing you’re doing.” He surveyed the group with her and beamed. “And this must be your family.”

Maggie introduced the priest to everyone, even as her gaze searched the room for some sign of Ryan. Father Francis caught her.

“You’ll find Ryan and Rory in the kitchen,” he told her with a grin. “But if I were you I’d stay out from underfoot for now. Our Rory is a bit of a tyrant. He has them on a tight time schedule. He’ll not be wanting any distractions. I believe the ladies can use some help with setting the tables.” He turned to her father and brothers. “And your help will be welcome in setting up the remaining tables and chairs. We’re expecting a large crowd today, so we’ll have to keep things moving. The first guests will arrive at noon and the last won’t be out of here much before three.”

Maggie, Colleen and Katie went to work with the other women, though Maggie was constantly on the lookout for Ryan.

“Where is he?” Katie demanded when there had been not so much as a glimpse of him for more than an hour.

“You heard Father Francis,” Maggie said. “He’s helping in the kitchen. And where is Colleen, by the way?”

“I haven’t seen her for some time now,” Katie said. “
She’s
probably in the kitchen where you should be. Can’t you think of some excuse to go in there? If you don’t, I will.”

“Katie O’Brien, you’ll do no such thing,” Maggie protested. “We came here to help where we’re needed, not to gawk at Ryan Devaney.”

Katie grinned. “Then you’re no sister of mine. I’d rather look at a handsome man any day than make sure the place settings are lined up properly.”