Dedicated to Deirdre

by Winston, Anne Marie

  “Fine,” she said impatiently. “What do you want?”

  “Nothing much.” His eyes were narrowed against the cigarette’s smoke as he exhaled.

  She moved away from the acrid cloud of smoke without speaking.

  “I’m getting married again,” he said abruptly.

  That was a surprise. “I didn’t realize there was anyone you were that serious with. Congratulations.” Part of her wanted to jump for joy at the notion that he’d stopped obsessing about her. But another side whispered dire warnings. Married, Nelson might look like a more stable parent to a judge. What if he challenged her for custody? She was single—and pregnant with another man’s child. Any lawyer worth his salt would have a field day with her morals.

  “Her name’s Nita,” he said. “I’d like to introduce her to the boys on Sunday. I think you and the boys will really like her.”

  Maybe so, if she could get Nelson to behave like this all the time. “What, exactly, did you have in mind?”

  “I’d like to bring her out here.”

  “Which brings up another point,” she said. “How did you find out where I lived?”

  But Nelson’s attention was suddenly fixed on the hilltop field. “Who’s that?”

  She turned, her heart sinking. She had prayed she could get rid of Nelson before Ronan returned. “It’s my tenant,” she said, identifying the figure. “I’ve rented out an apartment.”

  “Hmm.” Nelson turned and surveyed the other buildings on her property, then began to stroll toward the stable, which stood with its heavy door open wide.

  “Wait!” she said. “Where are you going?”

  “I want to talk to you without being interrupted,” he said.

  “We could talk in your car,” she said hopefully, reluctantly trailing behind him.

  “This’ll do fine.” Nelson reached behind her and pulled the door of the stable shut, and she jumped in alarm, stepping back from him. Her movement drew his gaze, and a strange expression twisted his lips for a moment. He took a long drag on his cigarette, exhaling the smoke toward the ceiling. “Look,” he said. “I’ve been a jerk, I admit it. I treated you like a slave when we were married. And taking the kids down to the cabin wasn’t a smart thing to do. I don’t know what I was thinking...I’ve really missed them since they stopped coming with me on Sundays.”

  A tiny piece of her heart thawed. This man had many, many flaws, in her eyes, but this was the first time she’d ever heard him sound as if he cared for Lee and Tommy. While she wasn’t about to leave her children alone with him, she knew it could only help them to have Nelson take an interest in them. And if that happened, she would live with her dislike. “I don’t see any problem with you and your fiancée coming out on Sunday,” she said, just as a ferocious barking began, some distance away. Murphy had scented his nemesis.

  Nelson jolted, turning toward the door with a fearful expression. “I didn’t know the dog was out. Can he get in here?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “I’ll check the door to the paddock. It should be closed, but you’ll feel better if you’re certain.”

  Nelson followed her closely as she walked to the back of the structure to check the big door. It was as tightly closed as she’d expected, and a padlocked bar on the outside added double security. “There,” she said, turning to him. “You won’t have to see Murphy again. My tenant can put him in the house until you leave.”

  The barking grew closer and they both paused, listening. Then a heavy body thudded against the door at the far end of the stable. Murphy was growling: she had no doubt that he remembered Nelson from their last encounter. He ran around the barn and vicious snarling accompanied a brief, futile scratching at the door. Then the dog’s claws could be heard against the wall beneath the high windows.

  “I thought you said your tenant would take care of him,” Nelson said. Even through the gloom she could see sweat beading his face. A wave of sympathy, totally unexpected, rolled over her. Poor man. He’d made a huge mess of his life, lost his children, driven away his wife and earned the undying hatred of the dog outside. She felt blessed in comparison.

  “He should be along any minute,” she said soothingly. To get his mind off the dog, she said, “Tell me about...Nita? That’s an unusual name—” She broke off. What was that smell? Almost like...smoke! It was smoke—there was a fire in the barn!

  She wheeled and looked back toward the front of the stable, where the stairs led up to Ronan’s apartment. To her horror, thick black smoke was rolling through the dark barn. She could even see some orange, licking streaks of flame, and she realized they couldn’t hope to get out the door at that end—and this one was locked from the outside.

  “Ronan!” she screamed. “Ronan, there’s a fire in the stable. We’re locked inside.” Already the smoke was slipping its silent, deadly way into her lungs, and she began to cough. Beside her, Nelson was moaning and coughing. She grabbed at his arm. “Get down!”

  He resisted her and she grabbed at him again. “Nelson! Get down. It’s easier to breathe near the floor.”

  “It’s not going to matter,” he said. “We’re going to be burned to death.”

  She could feel the heat rippling outward. Wildly she looked around, but there was nothing that would help. Both fire extinguishers were located near the other door and everything else—everything else, except the concrete floor on which they were crouched, was highly flammable.

  “Deirdre? Where are you? Deirdre!”

  Through Murphy’s now-frantic barking she heard Ronan’s voice, and she almost sobbed with relief. “Ronan! We’re around back.” She was seized by another deep, ugly cough.

  “Cover your faces!” They obeyed without comprehension and a moment later a thick board—part of the fence outside, she realized—shattered the closest window. She could barely see it, and the heat gave a hungry surge forward as it found fresh air to feed on, searing the backs of her legs. She screamed.

  And then Ronan was there. He scooped her from the floor, shouting, “Come on,” to Nelson, and in a single smooth move, hoisted her through the window. Even in his haste, he was careful to be sure he set her on the hay bales he’d dragged over to reach the window.

  She rolled off the hay to make room for the men, turning to look back as she did, but no one followed her down. Smoke was pouring from the broken opening now. Murphy, jumping anxiously around the foot of the pile, grabbed her shirt firmly in his big teeth and dragged her away. She shook free of him but he simply grabbed her arm gently but firmly in his mouth and she realized her dog wasn’t letting her go any closer.

  “Ronan!” she cried out. He appeared in the window, and she could see that he had his arm around Nelson. Nelson appeared to be barely conscious, and Ronan had to help him as he struggled to get his arms through the window. But as he caught sight of the dog waiting with her, he hesitated. Murphy leaped to his feet, barking, and suddenly Nelson shoved himself backward, tearing at Ronan’s arm. The unexpected resistance caught Ronan off guard. Nelson turned and plunged away, back into the inferno behind them.

  “Ronan!” She called out again. Visibility inside the barn had to be zilch; he couldn’t hope to locate Nelson if he wasn’t close by. Ronan hesitated—and disappeared from the window. All she could see was one hand desperately gripping the sill. She moaned, covering her mouth with her hand, holding her breath. Then he reappeared, pulling himself slowly up and out. Murphy, impatient with Ronan’s pace, leaped onto the pile of hay and fastened his teeth in Ronan’s shirt. The big dog’s muscles strained as he dragged the man’s heavy weight forward until he fell free of the window, groaning and coughing.

  She sprang forward, aiding the dog as fire sirens began to squeal in the distance. Haunches flexing powerfully, Murphy steadily pulled Ronan away from the hay. He didn’t stop pulling until they were at the far end of the paddock and she finally said, “Enough, Murph. Enough!”

  And as the exhausted dog dropped to the ground beside them, the roof o
f the stable fell in with a whoosh and a muted roar that chilled her as deeply as the smoke had invaded her lungs.

  Ten

  Deirdre threw such a fit about staying in the hospital overnight that Ronan told the doctor he’d watch her like a hawk if she could be discharged the following day. He hadn’t been kept for observation, she complained, and he’d inhaled at least as much smoke as she had, received just as many minor burns.

  “I’m not pregnant, either,” Ronan had said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the door of her hospital room. Lee and Tommy were still with her mother, whom Ronan had restrained from rushing to the hospital; Deirdre didn’t want the boys to see her in a hospital bed. And she was terrified that they might overhear some unguarded conversation. She wanted them to be in their own home, surrounded by familiar things, when she broke the news of their father’s death.

  The fire and rescue workers had pulled Nelson’s body—or what remained of it—from the pile of smoking rubble as soon as the heat had died back enough. She’d spent the time in the hospital grieving for the father of her sons from the point of view of her sons, and carefully thinking through how to explain Nelson’s death to the children.

  She was so thankful that Nelson’s last conversation with her had been a positive one. It would be such a relief not to have to lie to them. She sighed, rolling her head against the back of her seat when Ronan turned his truck off the main road and onto the lane that led home. As they bumped up and over the ridge and started down the other side, the farm spread out before them. And like a great blackened wart on vital, healthy skin, the charred remnants of the stable lay right in the middle of it all. Yellow police tape barred observers from wandering too close.

  After all, a man had died in there.

  She wasn’t aware of making any sound, but Ronan reached across the seat and took her hand, linking his fingers with hers. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” It was a near whisper, and she cleared her throat, conscious of the last effects of smoke-inhalation. “Seeing it is...hard.”

  “I know.” He braked the truck in front of the house and came around to lift her down from the seat, and they walked forward for a closer view of the devastation that had nearly taken their lives, too.

  Ronan stood just behind her, his big hands resting on her shoulders, thumbs absently brushing back and forth across her nape. It had to be hard for him, she knew. He’d lost all his equipment, with much of his livelihood tied up in the computers that had been destroyed.

  “What will you do about your book? And your screenplay?”

  She felt him shrug. “I had saved most of it on a floppy in the truck,” he said. “It’s a habit, to keep two copies in separate locations. I’ve done it every day for years.” His voice dropped. “Now I know why.”

  She shook her head, amusement and relief touching the edges of her melancholy. “What a weird thing to do. But I’m very glad you do. I guarantee nothing survived that fire undamaged.”

  Silence fell.

  Finally Ronan spoke. “Why? In the name of God, why wouldn’t he let me help him out? He could be standing here today.” His tone was low and anguished. “He just—just dove back into the smoke and I couldn’t find him.” He sighed. “I should have gone farther from the window, but I couldn’t see a thing and I was afraid if I let go of the sill, I’d never find it again.”

  “You did everything you could. Nelson’s death isn’t your fault.” She raised both her hands to cover his and a deep sigh of sorrow escaped her. “Actually, I think I’m partly to blame.”

  “What?” Ronan turned her to face him. “That’s ridiculous. If you hadn’t been screaming, I’d never have found you in time. I was still circling the front when I heard you.”

  “It’s not ridiculous.” She sniffed and leaned her forehead against his chest, speaking to the ground. “I encouraged his fear of Murphy. He was such a nervous wreck that he probably dropped his cigarette without even realizing it. And later, when he saw Murphy holding me back, I’m sure he thought I was being mauled.”

  “Deirdre.” Ronan put a fist beneath her chin, lifting her face. “This wasn’t your fault, or mine, either. It was an accident.”

  She took a deep breath, nodding slowly. “I know.”

  When he took her hand and led her away, she let him. They crossed the yard and walked around to the back of the house, mounting the steps. But before she could reach for the doorknob, Ronan tugged on her hand.

  “Let’s sit for a minute.”

  She didn’t want to “sit for a minute.” Ronan had been the very image of a concerned spouse at the hospital. She’d had a sonogram done so they could be sure the baby hadn’t been harmed, and he’d asked the technician at least two dozen questions. And at one point in her stay, one of the nurses told him he’d have to step out for a moment while they checked his wife.

  The innocent mistake had cut into her heart, far deeper than the mild bums on the backs of her calves. No, she didn’t want to be anywhere near Ronan. The less time she spent in his presence, the better. That way, she could get used to a life without him.

  He tugged again, harder, and she realized she’d stopped in her tracks. “I really have to let Murphy out,” she said.

  “In a minute.” He leaned against the porch railing and loosely clasped her wrists, holding her in front of him. “I’ve been misunderstanding you or you’ve been misunderstanding me since the first night we made love on this porch. It stops tonight. Remember I wanted to talk to you last evening when you got it into your head to take a little drive?”

  She nodded, wondering what purpose this rehash could have. “I don’t—”

  “That’s right,” he said, putting his fingers against her lips. “You don’t talk. I’m the one doing the talking. You’re the one doing the listening. Now—” He set his hands at her waist and pulled her closer. “I asked you to marry me and you said no. There are a lot of reasons that marriage would be a good thing for you and me. I think I’ve already told you most of them.”

  She could feel her eyes filling with tears, and she started to turn away, but he held her easily in place. “But there’s one reason I forgot, one that’s the most important of all.”

  As his words registered, the first faint blossoms of hope began to unfurl within her. Slowly, afraid she was reading too much into his statement, she lifted her gaze to his. The warmth in the hazel depths made her swallow involuntarily.

  Ronan reached for her hands again, holding them clasped between their bodies. “I love you, Deirdre. I should have said it weeks ago, but I was too stupid to understand it. Feeling like I’m only half-complete when I’m not with you is love. Wanting to find you to share good news when my editor calls and says she likes my outline is love. Lying awake staring at the ceiling because you aren’t in my arms is love.” He brought her hands to his lips, kissing the back of first one and then the other. “Is that what was missing from my proposal the first time around?”

  She didn’t answer immediately; she couldn’t. As he searched her brimming eyes, she saw a sudden, endearing uncertainty cloud his gaze.

  “Is that what was missing?” he repeated. “If not, please tell me what you want from me, and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything if it means you’ll agree to marry me and keep loving me for the rest of my life.”

  Finally she found her voice. “That’s what was missing,” she confirmed, joy spreading through her. “I don’t want anything but you, Ronan. I love you. Let’s get married.”

  He drew her against him, holding her closely all along his hard, hot body, running his hands over her as if he was relearning every curve. “Name the day.”

  But as he lowered his head to kiss her, they both heard the telephone inside the house shrilling. Ronan groaned, his mouth a breath above hers.

  “Shall we ignore it?” she whispered.

  Slowly he set her away from him as the phone rang again. “It might be the boys. Better get it.”

  She quickly unlocked the back door an
d reached for the phone as Murphy bounded out into the yard.

  After listening to the caller, grinning and answering when required, she stuck her head out the door. Ronan was rolling around on the porch with the dog, and her heart contracted. He was really going to be hers! Together they would raise their children in a warm, loving household, the kind she’d always dreamed of.

  “It’s my mother,” she said, pausing until he looked up at her. “She says the boys put Jell-O in the pool because they wanted to make the water firm enough to walk on and can she please bring them home now?”

  Epilogue

  “Uh-oh. Put on your bullet-proof vest.” Ronan nudged Jack in the ribs, nodding toward the woman walking toward them from the picnic tables.

  Jack looked in the same direction, eyeing Jillian Kerr���s all-white, formfitting sundress. Her blond hair bounced around her neck as she came toward them, carrying Jack’s daughter, Alexa. “Wonder what she’s going to chew us out about now?” He shook his head. “Too bad that woman has a tougher hide than a crocodile and a bite to match. I’ve got about a million friends who have bounced off her armor.”

  “Not a bad comparison,” said Ronan, subsiding as the crocodile came within earshot.

  “Hi, fellas.” Close up, Jillian looked less than immaculate. There was a smear of chocolate across her shoulder that matched the ring around Alexa’s mouth, and the dusty footprint from a tiny shoe decorated the skirt of her white dress.

  “Hey, Jill.” Jack’s best line of defense was definitely to attack first. “You’re looking a little the worse for wear. Kids getting the best of you?”

  “No, but I’ll know better than to wear white around your midget again.” Her tone was warm as she pressed a kiss to the tip of Alexa’s nose. Then she heaved an exaggerated sigh and struck a pose. “It doesn’t really matter, though. I look fabulous, no matter what I’m wearing.”