Natural Reaction - a Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery

Home > Other > Natural Reaction - a Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery > Page 6
Natural Reaction - a Mary O'Reilly Paranormal Mystery Page 6

by Terri Reid


  “Don’t worry, honey,” a comforting voice said. “We’re gonna help you deliver that baby.”

  They wheeled her into a surgery room and lifted her up onto a bed. “Tell me, honey, how long have you been having these pains?” the nice voice said.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t know I was…”

  A fresh wave a contractions hit again. Mary bit her lip hard enough for it to bleed in order to prevent herself from yelling.

  “Oh, honey, if you want to scream, you just go ahead and scream,” the nice voice said.

  “My baby,” she whimpered.

  “Oh, I think your baby is gonna be fine,” she said. “She just got a little stuck, that’s all.”

  Mary felt more pressure and took a deep breath.

  “That’s it honey, take a couple more of those deep breaths.”

  Suddenly she needed to push down. “Oh, there you go girl,” the voice said. “You know what to do.”

  “Okay, now, that contraction’s over, so you take it easy for a few minutes.”

  “Where’s Bradley?” Mary asked, looking around the stark white delivery room. “I need to see Bradley.”

  Suddenly Bradley was next to her. “Mary, what are you doing?”

  “I’m having a baby,” she said. “Our baby.”

  “But Mary, you can’t have a baby,” he said. “You can never have a baby.”

  “No, owwwwwww,” she moaned as the next contraction hit.

  She reached out for his hand, but it was too far away. “Bradley,” she cried. “Help me.”

  “Honey, you need to concentrate on this baby,” the nice voice said. “It wants to be born right away.”

  “Bradley,” she cried.

  “Okay honey, bear down and push that baby out.”

  Mary pushed down with all her might, felt the whoosh of the baby slip from her body. She heard the sound of her baby’s cry and tried to lift her arms to hold her.

  “My baby,” she gasped, looking around to see her child.

  A nurse held the swaddled child a few feet away. “I’m sorry Officer O’Reilly, you can’t have any children,” the nurse said.

  “But, my baby,” Mary cried, trying to push herself off the table to reach her child.

  “I’m sorry, Mary,” Bradley said, walking away with the nurse. “This is my baby, not yours.”

  “Bradley,” she screamed, tears running down her face. “I want my baby. Give me my baby.”

  “Sorry, Mary,” he said, fading into the bright light of the room. “Just a bad dream…”

  “Mary, darling, you have to wake up,” Ian urged. “Come on, Mary. It’s just a bad dream.”

  Mary opened her eyes. “Ian, the baby,” she said sitting up in her bed, her eyes searching widely around the room. “I can’t find the baby.”

  “I know, darling,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. “We need to find the baby.”

  She took a deep shuddering breath. “Will you help me?” she asked with a soft cry.

  “Of course I will,” he soothed. “I need you to take a deep breath and close your eyes for just a moment first.”

  “Then, we’ll find the baby?”

  “Yes, darling, I promise,” he said.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Can you hear me, darling?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Mary, take another deep breath,” he said in a soft calming voice. “And think about all the things you love in your bedroom; your big fluffy comforter and your thick comfy pillows. And what color would they be?”

  She smiled and took another deep breath. “White,” she said, “They’re white.”

  “Aye, I can see that now,” he said. “And your home, think about all the things you love in your home. The fireplace, the cozy kitchen…”

  He watched her shoulders relax and her breathing deepen.

  “The sexy Scot in the next room,” he whispered and smiled when he saw her lips turn up. “Where are you Mary?”

  She laid back down and snuggled into her pillow. “I’m in my room, trying to sleep,” she murmured. “I’m so tired.”

  “Aye, sorry I am that I woke you,” he said. “I’ll just go back to my room and leave you be.”

  “Mmmmmm-hmmmmm,” she mumbled, her breathing deep and rhythmic.

  “Good trick, professor,” Mike said, looking down at Mary from the end of the bed.

  “Did she wake the children?” Ian asked.

  Shaking his head, Mike said, “No, you were in here calming her before they had a chance to hear her. Not sleeping too well are you?”

  Ian sighed deeply and slipped off the edge of the bed. He stood next to Mike and looked down at Mary. “It’s my fault,” he said simply. “If I hadn’t suggested hypnotism…”

  “Jeannine’s murderer wouldn’t have been found and the creep could have killed another woman,” Mike said. “And, I’m sure you forced Mary to do this and she didn’t twist your arm one little bit.”

  “Well, I could have said no,” he argued.

  “You’re a smart guy,” Mike said. “You understand people pretty well, right?”

  Ian nodded.

  “Mary’s third generation cop,” he said. “She stepped in front of a bullet to save her brother. She doesn’t let people tell her what to do. She knew there was risk, but she felt the risk was worth it. Probably still does.”

  “I hate to see her hurting like this,” Ian whispered.

  “Yeah, me too,” he said. “We just need to make sure we’re here when she needs us.”

  “Aye, I’m not going anywhere.”

  Mike grinned. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Go to bed, professor, I’ll watch over her.”

  Ian nodded. “Aren’t you tired…”

  Mike lifted one eyebrow and Ian shook his head. “Must be more tired than I thought,” he said. “Good night, Mike.”

  “Night, professor.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Mary was surprised to find Ian already working in the kitchen when she came down the stairs the next morning. Ian looked up from the kitchen table and smiled. “We have a wee bit of time before the bairns need to be up,” he said, getting out of his chair. “Would you join me in a cup of tea?”

  She nodded. “That would be nice,” she said, running her hand through her hair. “I don’t feel very rested.”

  He poured her a cup from the teapot on the counter and carried it to her. “Well, you had a bit of a nightmare last night,” he said.

  Pausing in the midst of getting a sip of tea, she looked up at him. “A nightmare?” she asked, “Did I wake Andy and Maggie?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “No, I only knew because I was listening for you,” he said. “I thought your first night home might be a hard one.”

  She sat at the table and placed her cup down. “I do remember that you were in my room,” she said slowly. “I thought it was a dream.”

  He sat down next to her and grinned. “So, do you oft have dreams about me being in your bedroom?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows.

  She chuckled. “No,” she said baldly, grinning at his dejected face, “Which is why it stood out as strange.”

  “Ach, she cuts out me heart and then does a quick Highland fling upon it.”

  Mary placed her hand on Ian’s. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “But you are already promised to both Gillian and Maggie. I don’t think I can stand the competition.”

  He placed his hand on top of hers and took a deep breath. “And now, darling, we need to have a serious conversation,” he said, his face and the tone of his voice becoming serious.

  She nodded.

  “I need to understand why you won’t let me hypnotize you again,” he said. “Can you not trust me anymore?”

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Oh, Ian, no,” she insisted, “It’s nothing like that at all.”

  He sat back and studied her for a moment. “And if it’s not that,” he said. “T
hen what’s the reason?”

  She slipped her hands out from under his, picked up the hot mug of tea and took her time sipping it in order to gather her thoughts. Slowly placing the cup on the table, she lifted her eyes to him. “If you were to hypnotize me, would you be able to pick and choose which memories I’d be able to keep and which ones I’d lose?”

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t promise that,” he said. “The mind is a wily place. There’s no telling how things are connected to one another, but I’d have to believe that all of those memories would be linked together.”

  “That’s what I thought,” she said. “And that’s why I can’t allow you to remove them.”

  “Why?” he asked. “Are you still investigating something on the case?”

  She sighed and shrugged. “No, it’s…it’s ridiculous,” she said, “and I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “Try me.”

  Sitting back in her chair, she met his eyes. “When I was shot, the bullet went through my abdomen,” she said. “The doctors patched me up as best they could, and it was literally a miracle that I came through the surgery. But…”

  She paused and took a quick breath. “But they didn’t know if things were damaged inside of me,” she explained. “They didn’t know, don’t know, if I can ever have children.”

  “Ahhhh,” Ian said. “That perhaps explains your nightmare, you were crying out for your baby.”

  Wiping a few stray tears, she smiled at him. “I remember it a little. I gave birth to a baby, I felt it, but they kept saying I couldn’t have a baby. Bradley took the baby and disappeared with it.”

  “Your greatest fears,” Ian asked. “Losing both Bradley and your baby?”

  She shrugged. “I guess that’s probably true. But through Jeannine and her memories I got to feel a life growing inside me. I got to give birth to a baby. I got to hear the sound of a baby’s first cry. Can you understand how important that is to me?”

  He shook his head and leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hand together. “No, I have to admit, I can’t,” he said. “Mary, this was not your baby. It was Jeannine’s baby.”

  “It was also Bradley’s baby and I’m not ready to give that up.”

  “I’ll grant you, you experienced a miracle,” he said. “But you also suffered horrors no woman should bear. Are you sure the memory of the birth is worth the anguish?”

  She nodded. “I’m sure.”

  Sitting back in his chair, he took a quick sip of tea. “Well, then,” he said. “It looks like we’re on to plan B. We need to find ourselves a ghost.”

  “You’re looking for a ghost?” Andy said from the staircase. “Can I help?”

  Ian smiled at Mary. “Ah, so we have a ghostbuster in training.”

  “I’d be real good at finding ghosts,” Andy said. “Cause I ain’t afraid of nothing. I’m the bravest person I know. ‘Cept for Chief Alden.”

  Ian stood, walked over to the stove and scooped a bowlful of oatmeal out of a pot. “Are you brave enough to eat good Scottish porridge?” he asked.

  “Sure,” Andy replied. “Long as you let me put good stuff on it.”

  Ian shuddered. “Americans. Aye, I’ll let you have your brown sugar and raisins.”

  “Can I have some too please?” Maggie asked, making her way into the kitchen dragging her backpack.

  “Darling, you may have anything you’d like,” Ian said.

  Maggie turned to Mary. “I love the way he talks.”

  Ian placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of both of them. “And I love the way you talk too, darling,” he said gently. “Now, eat up and I’ll fix your lunches.”

  Maggie scooped a spoonful into her mouth. “He’s a good cooker,” she said after a moment.

  “It’s ‘cause he lives in a castle,” Andy said. “Castle people know how to make good oatmeal.”

  “It’s porridge,” Ian corrected.

  Maggie giggled. “That’s what the three bears ate,” she said.

  “Aye, and what Goldilocks ate,” Ian said, raising his voice an octave. “This porridge is too hot. This porridge is too cold.”

  “And this porridge is just right,” Maggie added, scooping another spoonful into her mouth.

  “Exactly,” Ian said, winking at her. “And how do you feel about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

  “We love them,” Andy said. “Specially with extra peanut butter.”

  Maggie nodded, her mouth full of food. “And jelly,” she murmured.

  “Well, then, extra peanut butter and jelly it is,” he said.

  Mary got up and went to the pantry. “I have some cookies, potato chips and fruit snacks,” she said. “Which would be the best…”

  “Cookies,” Andy called. “And chips.”

  “And fruit snacks,” Maggie added.

  Mary turned to Ian, “Do we have enough room in the sacks for all three?”

  “Oh, aye, there’s always room for snacks,” he said. “So, Andy, tell me a ghost story.”

  Andy took another spoonful of oatmeal and swallowed quickly. “There’s the ghost who lives at the old library,” he said.

  Ian turned to Mary and she shook her head. “He was just visiting,” she said.

  “Well, there’s the ghost that lives at the Historical Museum,” Andy said.

  Mary smiled. “Oh, that’s a good one, Andy,” she said. “But he only visits occasionally. No unfinished business there.”

  Andy sighed.

  “I know, the ghost at the high school,” Maggie said.

  “Yeah, the ghost at the high school,” Andy repeated. “Good one Maggie.”

  Mary was instantly alert. “Tell me about the ghost at the high school,” Mary said, grabbing the snacks from the pantry and walking over to the counter and dropping them in the sacks. “Where is it?”

  “On the second floor,” Andy said, “In the Chemistry lab.”

  Maggie nodded. “Uh huh,” she said. “He opens the windows and unlocks the doors.”

  Mary smiled. “Why would he do that?” she asked.

  “Cause he got stuck in there in a fire,” Maggie said, “And got burned up.”

  “Oh, well, the poor fellow,” Ian said.

  “Yeah, but he saved all the students,” Andy added. “He was a hero. So how come he’s a ghost?”

  Ian placed the bagged sandwiches into the sacks, folded down the tops and carried them to the table. “Well, that’s a very good question, Andy,” he said. “And perhaps that’s something Mary and I can discover.”

  Mary looked over at the clock. “You have ten minutes until the bus is here,” she said. “Go upstairs and brush your teeth. Then we’ll get you bundled up in your coats.”

  They rushed up the stairs, giggling the entire way. Mary picked up their bowls and brought them over to the sink. “Well, what do you think?” she asked.

  “I think we did well for a couple of amateurs,” Ian said, picking up the sacks and putting them in their backpacks.

  Mary laughed. “No, I meant about the ghost. It sounds like Dr. Thorne’s father,” she said. “Although I have to say, you did a wonderful job this morning.”

  He grinned. “You get to cook tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll just have to bribe Rosie to bring over cinnamon rolls,” she said, rinsing out the pan.

  “You’ll get no argument from me,” Ian said. “She cooks like an angel.”

  Mary laughed. “I do recall you proposing to her so she’d cook for you,” she said, filling the sink with soap and hot water. “I’d hate to have both Stanley and Maggie upset. Do you think you can control yourself?”

  “Aye, I’ll control myself,” he said. “She’s a promised woman now.”

  “I wonder if Rosie or Stanley have heard about this ghost,” Mary said.

  The clatter of feet on the staircase and young voices raised in argument interrupted their conversation. “Can too,” Maggie said.

  “Can not!” Andy argued.

  Magg
ie ran over to Ian, her eyes filled with tears. “Andy said I can’t marry you ‘cause you live in a castle and since I’m not a princess I can’t live in a castle too.”

  Ian knelt down in front of her, brushed her hair away from her face and helped her into her coat. “Well, darling, from what I can see you look like a princess to me,” he said. “So I suppose that settles it.”

  She beamed at him and then turned to her brother. “See, Ian says I’m a princess.”

  Andy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but…”

  Mary knelt down in front of Andy, zipping up the front of his coat. “And if Maggie is a princess, it must mean that you are either a prince or a knight of the realm,” she said. “So, you could visit Ian’s castle too.”

  “For real?” Andy asked, pulling his cap over his ears.

  “Aye,” Ian said. “I’m sure I have a sword sitting around the place that’d suit you just fine.”

  “Cool!” Andy said, beaming at his sister. “You can get married to him and I’ll be the guard.”

  Maggie smiled, pulling her mittens on as Ian placed her hat on her head. “Kay.”

  The honk of the bus’ horn interrupted the conversation. “Come on, Maggie, let’s go.”

  “Bye!” they yelled as they ran out the front door.

  “Bye,” Mary and Ian called, collapsing into the kitchen chairs after the door closed.

  “So, are we going to be able to do a week of this?” Mary asked.

  Ian grinned. “Do we have a choice?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Bradley sat down at his desk and looked at the mess surrounding him. During the time he’d spent out of the office watching over Mary, the paperwork seemed to have multiplied threefold. He started to sort the piles into priorities when the phone rang.

  “Chief Alden,” he said into the receiver.

  “Hey, it’s Sean.”

  Bradley sat back in his chair. “Hey, I’m sorry. I forgot to call you yesterday,” he said. “Mary’s out of the hospital. She came home yesterday.”

  “Yeah, she called me last night,” he said. “How’s she doing, really?”

  Bradley took a deep breath. “Well, physically she’s worn out, but other than that, she’s good. But she’s having some flashbacks.”

 

‹ Prev