"You staring at your ring again?"
"Of course. I have to make sure it's still on my finger, don't I?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Your fiancé is a big, strong, dreamy guy. I know."
"I don't want to brag, but yes he is."
"Hey, I meant to ask. Did you hear that your old boss, Laura, is moving to California?"
"No, I didn't. Why?"
"Something about being closer to her kids in college. She's putting her condo up for sale. She just had new carpeting and new hardwood floors put in. It's a secured building. She's able to walk to the hospital. Great place for a new couple to start out."
Maggie sighed. "I couldn't afford it."
"Get Bartholomew to move in with you."
Maggie's eyes flew open wide. "No. We've talked. That won't be happening until we're married. It's a long, complicated story." That stars my over-protective brother…
"It's too bad. It'd be a great place for you." Wendy stood up and walked around the desk. Maggie watched as she disappeared down the hall. She sat in silence for several minutes. Suddenly, she grabbed the receiver of the phone and tapped the buttons.
"ER," a voice rumbled from the other end.
"Could I talk to Laura, please?"
She heard the phone receiver dropped on the desk. A few moments later, it was picked up again. "Hello, Maggie," Laura's voice greeted.
“How'd you know?"
"Accent, darling. You're the only one in the hospital that has a brogue like that. You worked for me long enough, I’d know that accent anywhere."
"Oh." Maggie felt her face flush. "A little birdie told me that you’re moving."
"That's right."
"I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too, Maggie."
"The same birdie told me that you’re selling your condo."
She heard Laura's laugh. "Ah, the real purpose of this call. Maggie, I'm sorry, but I know you won't be able to afford it on your salary, especially if you're still going to school."
"I won't be the only one paying for it. I'm engaged to be married."
“Really? To who?"
Maggie bit her lower lip. "Bartholomew Evans."
"Really? Congratulations. I knew you two should have been together. The way he used to moon over you. Was he able to find a job?"
"He works for my brother. He makes more at the gallery than he used to here, and he's far happier there."
Maggie could almost hear Laura smiling on the other end of the phone. "All right. You've convinced me. Why don't the two of you drop by the condo at seven o'clock to take a look? You can see if you're interested."
"Great!"
Maggie grabbed a piece of paper and a pen to jot down Laura's address and then said goodbye. She cast one more loving glance at her ring before she quickly dialed Bartholomew.
At the end of her shift, Maggie waited excitedly in front of the hospital. She absentmindedly smoothed her T-shirt beneath her coat. She smiled, silently gratefully that she had brought a change of clothes with her to work.
She scrunched her nose at the sleek, black Italian sports car that purred into the drive. The price of the car could easily pay for five of Laura's condos by Maggie's best guess. How could some nimrod just blow that kind of money?
Her breath caught in her throat as the car stopped in front of her. Bartholomew smiled sweetly from the driver's seat. "Hey, love of mine. Need a lift?" he greeted.
"Dear lord, B. Please tell me you didn't waste your money on this car," she demanded.
"No, baby. I didn't. It's not mine."
"Then who—" Maggie cut off her own words with an exasperated sigh.
"Need you ask?"
"I didn't know my dearest brother owned a car like this."
"One? Sloan owns more like five of them at last count. This one was just brought in from New York."
"And he let you borrow it?"
"Handed me the keys himself."
Maggie shook her head as she opened the door and climbed in. She rested against the supple leather of the seat as the car silently pulled away from the curb. My brother has great taste.
It took only minutes to reach the condominium. Laura greeted them with a wave from the front step. As they approached hand-in-hand, she typed the security code into the keypad and led them inside.
Maggie couldn't believe her eyes as they wandered through the rooms of Laura's condo. The carpet was plush and soft. The hardwood floors gave off a honeyed glow. There were more cabinets in the kitchen than Maggie knew what to do with. The master bedroom was mammoth, with plenty of windows for natural light and a master bath with a tub, shower, and his and her sinks. The complex's clubhouse, complete with an exercise room and a gorgeous pool, was within eyesight of the patio.
She was in awe. She glanced up at Bartholomew. She could read his deep brown eyes. He was in love too.
"So, what do you think? Laura asked.
"How soon is it available?" Bartholomew countered.
"I’m hoping to move in four weeks. That is, if I can get this sold."
He met Maggie's gaze. "We're going to have to talk about it. Can we let you know in the next day or two?"
"Sure."
They said their goodbyes to Laura. Maggie took Bartholomew's hand in hers as they walked back to the car. They didn't say a word as he drove to their favorite Chinese restaurant. They stayed quiet as they were led to their table. The only words they spoke were to the waitress who took their order.
Finally, Bartholomew broke the silence. "So what did you think?"
"What did you think of it?" Maggie countered.
He exhaled slow and hard. "I won't lie, Maggie. I loved it. It's exactly what I would want our first place together to be."
Maggie smiled sadly. "I really loved it too. But…"
"But what?"
"How can we get it? I can't afford it alone, and we aren't getting married for a year and a half."
"Just get it, Maggie. I’ll help with the payments."
"Without you living there? That wouldn't be fair. We could move in together."
"Maggie," he chided. "We've gone over this."
"Yes. My brother is an overbearing ass." She sighed hopelessly. "There's nothing else, then. I’ll call Laura and tell her we can't."
"Wait," he warned. "There might be one more idea. It's crazy, but…"
"What is it? Tell me."
"Is your heart really set on a wedding next summer?"
Maggie's eyes grew wide.
A smile slowly grew across Bartholomew's face as he continued, "Let's move the wedding up. Six weeks from now."
"But your parents…can they be ready for a wedding in six weeks? It's such short notice. Plus, we have to find a caterer and a band and a cake and a florist in Montana."
"I'll call my parents. And we'll borrow Sloan's jet for the rest. He let me borrow his car. His jet is just the next logical step, right?" Maggie giggled at Bartholomew's sly grin. Her heart fluttered excitedly at his proposal. Could we really do it?
"So what do you think?" he asked.
Maggie stared at him bewildered for a long moment before she nodded excitedly. "Yes. Yes. Let's do it!"
He reached across the table and took her hand, pressing it against his lips. "I'll call my folks. You call Laura and tell her we'll take it. And then we'll call a family meeting and let them know our change of plans." He kissed her hand again. "I love you."
"I love you too, B."
Maggie dreaded the next twenty-four hours. She wasn’t afraid of the phone call to Montana. Bartholomew’s family was overjoyed by their announcement. And Laura was elated they were taking the condo. However, less than a day later, they were standing in the living room of her brother and sister-in-law, facing the firing squad.
Maggie felt four sets of eyes burn through her. She leaned against Bartholomew's strong, sturdy frame as she nervously tapped the toe of her tennis shoe against the wood floor. She glanced to the side. Five sets of eyes. Amelia rocked in h
er swing, her big, blue baby eyes watching her Aunt Maggie with great interest.
"Six weeks?" Gordon questioned.
"Yes," Bartholomew confirmed.
Sloan's voice was dark and dangerous. "Are you pregnant?"
"Dear lord, Sloan! No!" Maggie glowered.
"Then what possessed you to move your bloody wedding up?"
"We found the perfect condo, but I can't afford it alone."
"Then I will pay for it for you."
"No. I don't want your money. Can't you just be supportive of me?"
Abbey wrapped her hand around Sloan's and shot him a warning look to silence him. "Of course we're supportive. We just want you both to be happy. Six weeks is a pretty short engagement."
"It's longer than twenty-four hours." Maggie instantly regretted her words. The hurt look in her sister-in-law’s eyes made her feel worse. Her words weren't meant for Abbey. They were meant for the pigheaded Sloan.
"This is what we're going to do." Bartholomew tightened his arm around Maggie, holding her closer to him. "We're not asking permission. If you love us, you'll be happy for us and help us plan for our wedding. If not, we'll do it alone. Your choice. But in six weeks we're going to be Mr. And Mrs. Bartholomew and Maggie Evans."
Mary pulled free from the arm Gordon had wrapped around her and stood. She hugged Bartholomew and Maggie. "Of course we love you both. And we will help you plan. It was a bit of a shock, that's all. We're sorry."
Maggie hugged the older woman. She looked up to find Abbey beside her. "Sorry for what I said, sis."
"All’s forgiven." Abbey hugged her. "We should look up some bridal shops so the three of us can shop for your dress this weekend."
"That would be wonderful," Maggie agreed.
All three women stopped talking as they caught sight of the plastic card held out among them. Maggie traced the card to the fingers that held it to the arm that extended it between them. Her journey ended as she locked eyes with her older brother.
"What is that?" Maggie spat as she crossed her arms angrily over her chest.
"Your method of payment for your dresses," Sloan instructed. "And the tuxedos. And the caterer, baker, florist, and whatever else you have to pay for. If they don't take a credit card, I’ll cut a check."
"Put it away, Sloan."
"Take the card. Non-negotiable." He placed the card in Abbey's unwilling hand.
It was the final straw. Maggie clenched her hands to her hips in a white-hot rage that she struggled to keep in check. "Sloan, I am a big girl. I can take care of myself, including pay for my own wedding. So you can take your non-negotiable and shove it.”
“It wasn’t up for discussion…”
That was all Maggie heard. She stormed out the front door, slamming it behind her.
Chapter Twelve
Maggie tucked the blanket tighter around the newborn sleeping in the bassinet. She smiled. This was one of the many things she loved about her job. And she needed all the smiles she could get right now.
The past five days had grown more and more tense. Bartholomew's sweet, easygoing nature disappeared. It was difficult for him to go to work every day. Maggie postponed the dress shopping indefinitely. The fun had been sucked out of it. Six weeks was rapidly becoming five weeks and nothing had been done.
The nursery door opened softly. Wendy popped her head around the corner. "Maggie, you have a visitor," she informed quietly.
"Who?"
"An older gentleman. Very well dressed. Has the same accent as you. Your dad?"
Maggie sighed heavily. "My da died when I was a tot. I know who it is." She strode across the nursery and followed Wendy out of the room. Gordon leaned against the counter of the nurses’ station, dressed in his customary suit.
"Gordon," Maggie greeted flatly.
"Hello, lass. Just in town to see if you would like to join me for lunch."
"I'm not sure when I can get away…"
"I can cover for you," Wendy volunteered.
"Well, that's settled, then," Gordon replied happily.
Maggie flashed a glare at Wendy as she picked up her purse and followed Gordon to the elevators. As they stepped inside, she punched the top button. "The rooftop cafe has better food," she muttered.
"All right."
In the restaurant, Maggie huffed as Gordon escorted her through the line in front of him. She grabbed a small turkey sandwich, a raspberry yogurt, and a bottle of water. Gordon gently took them from her hands, placed them on his tray, and paid for their lunch. She shuffled across the cafe and plopped into a chair by the expansive wall of windows overlooking the life coming and going from the hospital. He set the tray on the table and sat in the chair opposite her.
"I know Sloan sent you to talk sense into me. You can save your breath," Maggie blurted.
"No, he didn't." Gordon divided their food between them. "He doesn't know I’m here. I’m here to talk to you about him. I agree he's been oppressive to you, Maggie."
"Then you should tell him that."
Gordon held up his hand to silence her. "Hold on, little one. He has his reasons. Your da and Ethan's deaths weigh heavily on him, even after all these years. He feels responsible, like he should have prevented them."
"He was ten. How could he?"
"I know. But it doesn't change how he feels. He also feels he failed you and your ma by not being there—first by serving with the IRA, then by leaving Northern Ireland. He feels he didn't take the place of your da and Ethan by protecting you and your ma and providing for you both."
Maggie poked her plastic spoon into her yogurt. "He did, Gordon. He sent plenty of money to us. And Liam and his men protected us. He saw to that."
"But he wasn't there to do it himself."
Maggie stared into the smooth pink swirls of yogurt as she fought back tears. When she had moved to the United States, she had hardened herself to her brother's success. She wanted to be her own woman. However, as she had held her ground, she had missed the pain her brother fought to hide from her. She heard Gordon's voice continue.
"He wants to pay for the wedding like your da would."
She sighed. "Maybe I've been too hard on him."
"You've been too hard on each other. You need to find common ground."
She looked at him. His gentle smile was infectious. She couldn't help but return it. "Thanks, Gordon."
"You're welcome, lass. Now, should we eat before your lunch break is over?"
Maggie plunged into her yogurt, scooping a spoonful into her mouth. "Absolutely!"
»»•««
As soon as Maggie's shift was finished, she raced to her apartment to change her clothes. She crawled into the driver’s seat of her car and headed out of Iowa City toward Mount Vernon. As she drove, she struggled to think of what she would say.
Instead of words, memories came to her. Memories of letters, memories of trinkets from foreign lands. There were days when she would plow over the postman and Liam just so she could see if there was something in the mail for her.
She stifled a sob as a memory popped into her mind. That day. A day before the letters and gifts arrived. She was ten. Ten was a cursed age in her family. Ten always came with a very large bang. Hers was courtesy of a very evil contraption, one Sloan was accused of setting. But not Sloan. Back then he was Tom. Except he didn't set it. He was just a kid barely able to understand what he was building. Someone else did, killed a bunch of innocent people in London, and blamed her brother. Gordon—well, back then he was Simon—and Liam had leaped into action, and within twenty-four hours they had met at the house for final goodbyes.
She remembered Ma drilling Simon viciously, making him recite her instructions as she fought back her sobs. Ma was nearing a breakdown. She had lost Ethan. In a few minutes, she would lose Tom too.
Tom had stood in the corner behind Simon and Liam, his head hung low. He had towered over both of them, even then. Maggie had stared at him as anger burned her heart. Didn't he care how much the stupi
d life he chose hurt Ma? Didn't he care about her at all?
Then he had looked up. His ice blue eyes had been filled with tears, which were cutting paths down his cheeks. Maggie had never seen Tom cry. Ever. Even when he was hurt, he didn't cry.
He had pushed past Simon and Liam and embraced Ma. He had told her he loved her. He had told her he was sorry. Maggie had run down the steps where she was watching and clung to her big brother as she began to cry. After several moments, Simon had grasped his shoulder, telling him they needed to hurry.
Liam had wrapped his arms around Ma and Maggie to keep them from following. He was wise because they both tried to twist out of his strong grip. Maggie had looked up and caught one final glimpse of Tom’s face. She etched it into her memory. She wondered if she'd ever see it again.
Now he’s Sloan. It’s the only thing that has changed. Just his name. His heart’s the same.
Maggie shook her head violently to dispel the recollection from her mind as she wiped the lingering tears from her cheeks. As she turned onto the main street of Mount Vernon's downtown, she pulled into the first parking place she came to. She slipped into the coffee shop and ordered two cups. She smiled slyly to herself. Peace offering.
She held a cup in each hand as she walked up the sidewalk to the gallery. She pushed the door open with her hip, turning the knob with what little of her hand she could spare. Her heart slammed in her chest as a voice boomed from the back. "Be there in just a moment." She held her breath and smiled as she heard boot steps on the wood plank floor approach.
"What do you want?" Sloan growled as he wiped his chalk-covered hands on a towel.
Maggie extended a cup of coffee to him. "To talk."
"The last thing you said to me was to get out of your life. I obliged. Still not happy?"
She gently shook the cup she held out to him. "Please?"
He stared at her for a long, hard moment. He grudgingly took it and then sat on the stairs. "Talk."
"I'm sorry for what I said. Of course I want you in my life."
"And the rest?"
"Sweet brother, you are a pompous, over-protective ass. I can't take that back. But I understand why."
She returned his glare as she crossed the gallery and sat beside him on the step. "Sloan, I know you feel like you need to replace Ma and Da and take care of me. But what I need is my big brother. Someone who has my back. Someone I can talk to, who’s not going to lecture me. I need that guy who taught me the fine art of mischief making so I can keep my future husband on his toes and pass it along to my children."
Heartland Page 17
