"I know what I'm asking you to do is highly unusual," she said earnestly when she had finished her plea. "But I'll move my patients to Charleston only if their medical condition absolutely requires it."
"And how do you plan to transport when necessary?"
"In my minivan if time isn't a problem. By ambulance if it is."
Alan Urquehart regarded her consideringly, and as the moments ticked by, Maura realized that she was holding her breath in suspense. But then he nodded decisively. "I'll do it," he said, and Maura nearly fell off the settee. She hadn't expected it to be so easy.
"I happen to believe that the women of Shuffletown are just as entitled to alternative birthing methods as anyone else, and you seem to be just the person to provide the thorough care that they need." He smiled warmly, and Maura could have thrown her arms around him. Instead they shook hands, and within a few minutes they had agreed on a loose working relationship that would provide the precious backup Maura needed. She thanked him profusely when they parted.
"I'll help you in any way I can," he told her. His confidence in her made her feel wonderful.
Maura sought Bonnie out in the crowded kitchen to thank her for her recommendation.
"I'm glad it worked out," Bonnie said before hugging Maura in congratulations. "Let me know if there's anything else I can do."
"Come visit the McNeill Birth Center when it's open," Maura said, and Bonnie promised that she would.
Feeling that she'd made a new friend, Maura pushed her way through the crush of people in the hall. She was ready to leave. She stepped on a few toes on her way out, but she hardly cared. She longed for fresh air and freedom from this awful party.
And then she ran into him. Before she even lifted her eyes to his face, she recognized Xan by the distinctive whorled pattern of the dark hair on his chest above the unbuttoned top buttons of his shirt. She looked up and up to the cleft chin, the less-than-perfect nose, and the dark-fringed green eyes, which were regarding her with amazement.
"Taking in a bit of the local social scene, I see," Xan said.
"I was on my way out," she managed to say, brushing past him.
"No, you weren't," he said, somehow wrapping his arms around her so that she could move no farther. "You were just about to dance with me."
"I can't dance," she said for the second time that night.
"Of course you can," he said, and to prove it he maneuvered her until her right hand was in his left and her left was on his shoulder, and his right arm around her waist tugged her insistently in the direction his feet were moving.
She stumbled. He righted her. He peered down at her, frowning slightly and sniffing her breath. "Had a little too much to drink?"
She gulped. "Nothing to drink." She recognized the song playing now as a slow ballad, one she'd heard often enough on the minivan's radio during the long, lonely drive from California. Some level of awareness sorted out the rhythm to this dance, and she tried to recall the one-two-three, one-two-three of her dancing-school days. A kid named Dennis Riley had usually been her partner. He'd had freckles on his ears.
Xan swooped her into a vacant place in the middle of the crowd of dancers. She gave his shoulder a little push with her left hand. He was holding her much too tightly.
"What was that supposed to mean?" he asked.
She flushed in embarrassment. "You're—you're holding me too closely," she said.
"You could follow me better if I held you even closer," he said, firmly pulling her body toward him until her breasts tipped his chest. She pulled away, but he rested his cheek on her temple, where she could barely feel the slightly rough texture of recently shaved skin.
"You dance very nicely," he said with a hint of insincerity. And then "Oops" as she delivered a heel chop to his instep.
"I told you I didn't dance," she pointed out.
"That's right," said an all-too-familiar voice behind them. They both looked to see Bob, the tipsy intern who had asked Maura to dance earlier. He looked threatening. "You wouldn't dance with me. Why are you dancing with him?" He jerked an intimidating thumb at Xan.
"Leave her alone," Xan said in a low tone. "The lady's my date."
"Your date? She came in with us." He looked befuddled.
"Chill, Bob. She's leaving with me." The music was trailing out on the last lingering notes of the song. "Shall we go, Maura?" Xan eyed her meaningfully.
With Bob scowling at both of them, there was nothing she could do but hook her arm through Xan's and let him escort her off the floor, leaving an angry-looking Bob standing there looking as though he'd like to kill someone if only he could figure out who. A few seconds later, they heard him yelling, "DeeDee? DeeDee!" Maura pitied the unseen DeeDee, wherever she was.
Xan spirited her outside, and then, looking pleased with himself, said, "Where to? It appears that you're my date. There's an Irish band playing at the Piccadilly Pub. Want to try it?"
"Xan, thanks for rescuing me, but I can't go out with you." She stopped in front of her car and pulled her keys out of her purse, jingling them slightly out of nervousness.
"If you didn't want to socialize, why did you come here?" He stared at her, perplexed.
She inhaled. "I came here because Bonnie Trenholm put in a good word for me with her supervising doctor, Alan Urquehart, and I wanted to ask him if he'd be my supervising physician."
"And?" Xan was glowering down at her, more intimidating than she'd ever seen him.
"And he will. End of story. End of evening." She turned and slipped the key into the locked door.
Xan raked an impatient hand through his hair. The curls stood up on his head, no longer styled into neat waves. "So you got your way after all," he said in carefully measured tones.
Maura paused before getting into the minivan. "Does that surprise you?"
He considered this. Then the suggestion of a smile touched his lips. "No, Maura, my dear, it does not. You are a determined individual with stubborn ideas. You wanted to get your way and you did. Congratulations." His lip curled, and it was not quite the smile she thought it was at first. The glint in his eyes cut through her.
Stubborn. Determined. Well, she'd been referred to in those terms before. His words echoed those of the mother superior when she demanded that Maura discontinue her outreach practice in midwifery. Stubborn and determined were not words that should apply to a nun. But they were not an unwelcome description now, and they only underscored her dedication to her mission.
The smile lighting Maura's features was brilliant and not at all what Xan had expected. "Thank you," she said, slamming the door after her.
"Wait a minute," he said, wrenching the door open again. "You got your way. And now I'm going to get mine." And then he pulled her down from the seat so that she tumbled into his arms.
"Maura McNeill," he said, and again she could see twin moons reflected in the depths of his eyes as the warm flutter of her name became his breath upon her lips. Her lips parted in surprise as his face bent over hers, and she gasped in shock. His mouth was open as it touched her lips, sucking the breath out of her, possessing the very air she breathed, and replacing it with his own.
His lips sought the corners and crevices of hers, savored the fullnesses and the flavors, and her startled response was a sensation of weakness overshadowed by awareness. Surely and masterfully he angled her head into the proper position and swung his arm around her to cradle it.
Her hands touched him tentatively at first, searching for support as he bent her over his arm, but once they felt the warm surging strength of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt, she no longer seemed to be able to control their direction. Her fingers felt their way over his rippling biceps, lingered numbly for a moment on the hardness of his shoulders, and slid deliberately to his neck, where they rested at the nape, barely tipping the short curly hair there.
His other arm, the one that wasn't supporting her head, circled her upper back, pressing her firmly against his body so that his
well-defined pectoral muscles strained against her swelling breasts.
This shouldn't be happening, she told herself helplessly, and then his tongue found the opening it needed and invaded her with a forcefulness that left her no more time for that kind of thinking. A new rationalizing sort of thought seemed to have fooled her into believing that it was right to be doing this with Xan Copeland. This had to be right because it felt so good.
In three minutes, she'd learned more about intimacy between a man and a woman than she'd learned in her whole lifetime. Her mouth had opened to him and it was all delight, all pleasure to be swept away like this.
"You see," he murmured huskily against her throat when he had finally released her lips. "This is good for both of us, Maura."
Xan's breath fairly sizzled on her skin, and she knew that if she allowed this to go on, the results could only be disastrous. She pushed him away, but only a little.
"It's all happening much too fast," she told him shakily.
"I don't think it's happening fast enough," he said wryly, and when she looked at him more sharply, she could see that he wore a look of dry amusement.
Oh, the things she could tell him if she would! Maybe their relationship wasn't moving fast enough by the standards of most people, but Maura felt completely out of sync. And one thing she knew was that she didn't want to be a fast pickup at a wild party. She shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs, and her look of confusion and disorientation made Xan take a small step backward.
She avoided the peril of his eyes. "I want to go home now," she said firmly, surprising herself at the resoluteness of her tone.
"Well, lady, if you insist. But you're really missing something." His eyes glittered with humor, and she was sure he didn't mean that what she would be missing was the party.
He didn't stop her when she climbed into the minivan and slammed the door. He didn't say a word as she started the engine. And as she rolled away from the curb, trying to pull the world back into focus despite the crazy pounding of her heart, he only raised his hand in a silent salute of farewell.
It seemed like a very long drive back to Teoway Island, but the time gave Maura a chance to think. And what she thought was that her body could betray her if she let it. Not that it was bad for her body to feel so good—she had left that idea behind forever. But she couldn't get involved with Xan Copeland—wouldn't get involved with Xan Copeland. Her time and her energy were needed elsewhere.
* * *
After the night of the party, Xan faded from Maura's life, if not from her thoughts. She tried not to think about him or his consummate skill at lovemaking; indeed, going ahead with her plans to become a practicing midwife dominated her life. Converting the farmhouse to the McNeill Birth Center became Maura's focus during the next few weeks.
"This will be my waiting room," Maura told an interested Kathleen, who had finally, with reservations, come to look. "The former living room can function as an exercise and education room. And here"—Maura indicated a sunroom—"I'll install a playroom with toys for the young children accompanying their parents." Two first-floor bedrooms would be transformed into examining rooms. Outside, a sign that proclaimed McNeill Birth Center swung from a branch of one of the pecan trees.
Kathleen looked around at the sunny house. When Maura had first told her about it, she hadn't been able to imagine how an old farmhouse could become the facility Maura envisioned. She was happy to see that it had a light, airy look about it. Maura had already painted the waiting room a soft shade of yellow. Plants would hang in front of the long windows of what had formerly been a dining room.
"It's perfect," said Kathleen, her initial objections to the old farmhouse overcome. "Just perfect. In fact my friends on Teoway Island would love to come to someplace like this for prenatal care. Have the Shuffletown women shown any interest?"
"They're beginning to ask questions when they see me around town. I've put signs up at the local Laundromat and in gas stations along the highway. My telephone and internet will be installed tomorrow, and I'm going to move in here on Saturday."
Kathleen's face fell. "Really, Maura? I don't see why you have to live here. Wouldn't you be more comfortable staying with us on Teoway?"
"No, Kathleen," said Maura firmly. "We've been through all this before, and I haven't changed my mind. I'll be perfectly comfortable living upstairs."
"But it's so hot out here in the middle of these cotton fields, and it's so far from everything." Kathleen furrowed her forehead at her sister; why would Maura want to forsake the sumptuous comforts of Teoway for this isolated farmhouse?
"Thanks to the wonderful O'Malley Family Foundation, I can afford window air conditioners and they're arriving"—she consulted a list on a clipboard—"tomorrow. So neither summer heat nor flies nor South Carolina's fabled gnats will stray this midwife from her chosen work. Now"—she smiled encouragingly at Kathleen, who still looked skeptical—"did someone mention lunch?"
And so they left in Kathleen's new BMW for a celebration lunch at the outdoor restaurant in the elegant Marketplace Mall on Teoway Island, and Maura looked around her at the carefree and luxurious surroundings that were beautiful but meant absolutely nothing. After the convent, life here seemed trivial and the people self-centered compared to the nuns among whom she had lived before. Maura knew beyond a doubt that she was doing the right thing for herself and for the people of Shuffletown by moving to her farmhouse.
"Has there been any reaction from Xan Copeland?" Kathleen asked after the waitress had served them the house specialty, a concoction of scallops in white wine.
Maura shook her head. "Not a word," she said. "Nor do I expect any." Kathleen didn't know about Maura's disturbing encounter with Xan at Bonnie's party.
Kathleen nodded sagely. "It's probably just as well that you haven't heard from him."
"Mmm" was all Maura said, and she bent her head so that her hair fell over the side of her face, effectively blocking Kathleen's view of her facial expression. She didn't want to tell Kathleen, but she would have given almost anything to know what Xan Copeland thought about the determined way she was going ahead with her plan.
The day after her lunch with Kathleen, Maura was struggling to hang a pair of recalcitrant calico curtains in one of the examining rooms when she heard a timid knock at the door. Suppressing irritation over the interruption, Maura tossed the curtains aside and clambered down the ladder, and when she arrived at the door she was surprised to find a little bit of a young woman with dark golden skin who stood peering anxiously through the screen door.
"Come in," Maura called, wiping her dusty hands on her smock. She half expected it to be someone who had read one of her signs and was inquiring about prenatal care.
Her visitor broke into a big smile when she stepped inside the door, reminding Maura of nothing so much as one of those yellow smiley-face stickers, and she said, "Ms. McNeill, Dr. Copeland sent me."
Maura couldn't have been more surprised, and evidently her amazement showed on her face. It seemed, however, that there was only one polite thing to do. "Well, I—well, okay. Do come in and sit down." She led her guest through the maze of boxes and cleaning supplies to the waiting room and pulled up a straight chair—for the moment the only furnishings in the waiting room were four straight chairs and a card table—and wondered who on earth this woman was and why Xan had sent her. Surely he couldn't be sending Maura patients!
"He said you need an assistant."
"I am looking for one," said Maura.
"My name is Golden Prescott, and I'm a registered nurse. I applied at the Quinby Hospital, but they didn't have an opening. Dr. Copeland said maybe you could use me."
"Where did you work before?"
"I was working at a hospital in Knoxville, but my mother got sick and I had to come back home to take care of her. Since she died, I'm all alone, and I need work." Golden spoke softly, and Maura found herself warming to her quiet voice and gentle manner.
"Are you interested i
n becoming a midwife? I need an assistant. I'll train you, but it's the kind of work you have to love."
"I worked in the maternity ward, so I know enough about mothers and babies to get by. Once I delivered a baby that came early, before the doctor got there. It—it made me feel special."
Maura asked her a few more relevant questions about her training and experience, but it was Golden's eyes, so eager and sincere, that really did the convincing. "Do you know anything about hanging curtains?" Maura asked finally.
Golden stared at her for a moment, and then she began to laugh. "Yes, Ms. McNeill, I do. Sounds like you need some help."
Maura stood up. "Come back here and hand these curtains up to me, then, while we talk about what I expect from my assistant. And call me Maura, please."
The terms of Golden's employment were settled as they straightened out the tangle of curtains, and Golden agreed to report to work the next day. They shook hands on the deal, and after Golden left, Maura ironed another pair of curtains, ready to hang them upstairs. She couldn't believe that finding a promising assistant had been so easy.
And it probably wouldn't have been if Xan hadn't helped. She was amazed that he'd cared enough to send Golden to her. Her new assistant was a prize and had exactly the kind of experience that Maura was looking for.
Because she knew how Xan felt about her professional presence here, Maura realized that his sending Golden had been a generous gesture. Could there have been an ulterior motive? Probably not. It seemed more as if he'd seen the opportunity to do both women a favor and had done it. She'd have to drop Xan a nice note and thank him.
Her eyes fell on the newly installed telephone. She hadn't even tried it out yet. Well, why not? She'd call Xan and thank him that way. It would be easier and less time-consuming than writing a note. She hadn't kept his phone number in her cell phone and had to look it up on the internet. His receptionist answered, and when she gave her name, Maura was put on hold while the receptionist buzzed Xan.
He picked up the line immediately. "Maura?" he said, and he sounded as though he could hardly believe that it was she.
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