Hold Me Fast (McCullough Mountain Book 7)

by Lydia Michaels

  I’ll always love her, but love isn’t enough… Forgive me, lassie. I’ve led you down a spoiled path.

  He swung and the blade embedded in the trunk. Jerking his arms he pulled it loose and swung again, roaring with each swing, he hacked the trunk apart, but the damn tree wouldn’t fall.

  Working his body into a sweat, he roared, “Fall, damn you!”

  The word forever mocked him. He swung and chopped as wood splintered into the air and dust burned his eyes. The tree finally wobbled and he doubled his efforts, determined to remove every promise he ever made her so she could go ahead and annul this mistake he’d convinced her to make.

  There was a crack as he took a final swing and shoved the trunk with his boot. Stepping back, he panted as the tree went down—the world strangely silent around him.

  “No more,” he whispered, turning his back on his word.

  He tossed the axe in the bed of his truck and stared at the mountain in the distance. Against the dark sky it was only an inky silhouette. Most wouldn’t even know it was there. How could something so obvious be overlooked? He thought as his mind skipped and jumped in an angry haze of self-loathing. It didn’t matter anyway.

  Climbing behind the wheel of his truck, he grit his teeth and turned the key. Time to face the piper.

  As he drove to her house, he thought about her stubborn nature. Her father was right and they should have listened to him. It would be difficult to explain that to her and she’d likely put up a fight, probably slap him once or twice too. Maybe if she hated him the task would be easier and she’d move on faster, eventually seeing this is for her own good.

  His gut swirled uncomfortably at the thought of her moving on and he gripped the wheel so tight he was surprised it didn’t bend. When he reached her house he decided to go right to her father. She was right. He was a coward, because no matter how he tried, he didn’t have the guts to tell her it was over.

  Climbing out of the car, he took the walkway, his steps slow and reluctant.

  “Psst… Frank? Is that you?” Bushes swished in the distance and he frowned as Maureen let out a short yelp.

  He frowned into the darkness and hissed, “Maureen?” What the hell was she doing?

  “Bloody Christ,” she cursed. A moment later she came around the corner, a twig stuck in her hair and a smudge of dirt on her cheek. She smiled and whispered, “You came!”

  She was in a nightgown. “Where the hell are you coming from, woman?”

  “What? Oh. I climbed out the window. My parents are sleeping. I didn’t want you to wake them. I’ve been waiting for you. I hoped you’d come.”

  Guilt knifed through him. How many nights had she waited, hoping he’d show only to be disappointed? She loved him too much, more than he’d ever deserve. “I need to speak to your father.”

  She frowned. “Why? Did something happen with the bank?”

  This was harder than he expected. He tried to stay focused. “No. Can you wake him for me?”

  Scowling now, she stepped back. “What’s going on?”

  “I…Christ.” He couldn’t do this. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

  “The hell you will.” She grabbed his arm. “I’ve waited weeks to see you. Come with me. We’ll go out back. I have to talk to you.”

  Reluctantly, he let her tug him around the back of the house where a picnic table sat. She shoved him onto the bench and slid beside him. Her lips pressed to his neck and his body instantly reacted. “Don’t you want to kiss your wife?”

  God he did, but he couldn’t, not when he’d come here to end their marriage. He swallowed, as her hand cupped his jaw and turned his face. The moment her mouth found his he was a goner.

  His lips sealed to hers, as heat filled his lungs and desire exploded inside of him. God, he’d missed her taste. He missed everything about her, her scent, the feel of her hair in his fingers, the touch of her body to his. He wanted to strip her down and take her then and there.

  He ripped his mouth away. “We have to stop.”

  “I know, but I can’t help it. I miss you so much.”

  He carefully removed her arms from around his neck. “Maureen, we need to talk.”

  “I know we do. I’ve got wonderful news.”

  “I—wait, what news?” Maybe her father had come around and agreed to let them rent a room of the house until things straightened out.

  She smiled and her chin quivered. Taking his hand, she rubbed his fingers as if she were nervous and found the action soothing. “Frank…I’m pregnant.”

  Every muscle in his face went numb. “What?”

  He’d mistaken her excitement for nervousness. She squeezed his hand and repeated. “I’m pregnant. I can’t be sure, but my cycle is almost nineteen days late. I’m never late. I plan to see the doctor to be certain, but I wanted to tell you first.”

  “Pregnant?”

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” She tugged his hand and flattened his palm onto her belly. “Our child.”

  “You’re pregnant?”

  “I was surprised too. My mum says it isn’t often so easy, though I can’t imagine people object to trying at such a thing.”

  He withdrew his hand. “It could just be a false alarm. We shouldn’t jump ahead before you see a doctor—”

  She shook her head. “I know my body. I can feel her. I’m not sure how to explain it, but I know she’s in there. It’s like…I know I’m not alone even when it’s just me in a room. Our baby is in there, Frank.”

  “Her?”

  She blushed. “Well, I know there’s no way of knowing for sure, but she sure feels like a girl. And I’ve been eating a lot of strawberry ice cream, which is pink. What do you think of the name Mary, after my mum? We’ve gotten so close over the past weeks. I know she’d be honored to have her first grandbaby share her name.”

  He couldn’t breathe. They were outside, yet it felt like walls were closing in on him from every angle. “Do you have anything to drink, love?”

  “Do you want juice? Milk?”

  “Do you have anything stronger?”

  “Let me look.” She kissed his cheek as she stood. When she went into the house, he stood and paced, his hand gripping the back of his neck as he tried to process her news.

  Pregnant.

  She was having a baby. His baby.

  His chest lifted as his breath turned labored. Of all the turns this night could have taken, he never saw this coming. He should have been more careful, yet…

  Deep satisfaction rolled through him, primal and proud. She was carrying his baby. His. Despite the incredible complication this caused, he couldn’t help the thrill of accomplishment racing through him. Talk about a game changer.

  The door opened and she slipped out quietly, carrying a bottle of some sort. “I found this—”

  His mouth crashed over hers in a searing kiss. The bottle landed on the grass with a thud. He turned her, lifting her off the ground and seating her on the table.

  “Oh, Frank, I thought you’d gone shy on me…”

  “Never, my beautiful wife. Never. My wanting for you will always be stronger than my will, Maureen. I’m a fool for keeping away.”

  He quickly unclasped the buttons of her nightgown and spread it wide, his hand sneaking between their bodies and flattening on her belly. “Our baby.”

  She laughed and reached for his belt. “If we’re quiet I bet no one will know we’re back here.”

  He hitched up her gown and pulled her to the edge of the table. Undoing his zipper, he said, “Take off your panties.”

  She giggled. “I’m not wearing any.”

  “Christ, woman.”

  He clutched her under the knees and parted her thighs. His fingers went to her sex and found her wet and ready. “It’s going to be fast. I’ve gone too long without you, love.”

  “You talk too much,” she said, reaching for him and guiding his body into hers.

  He thrust and they both gasped. His forehead pressed to her shoulder
as he simply held her for a moment. Emotion suddenly overwhelmed him and no matter how deep he inhaled, he couldn’t quite catch his breath.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, Maureen. You were right. I was being a coward, but no more. We’re going to get this right if it kills me. I promise you won’t be here much longer. I’ll find us a place and we’ll do what we can for our baby.”

  She held the back of his neck and stared into his eyes as he thrust deeply, slowly, whispering vows he intended to keep.

  “You listen to me, Frank McCullough. You ever ignore me again like you have these last few weeks and I promise I won’t wait. I don’t ask for much, but I demand your presence in this marriage. Do you understand me?”

  “Aye. Never again, love. Never again.” He kissed her. “Do you forgive me?”

  “I do.”

  The door suddenly burst open and they stilled, his heart in his mouth.

  “I’m going to kill you.”

  “Oh shit,” Maureen whispered as her father cocked the rifle. “I’ll be wanting more than one child, but only one husband. Cover your goods and run as fast as you can. If anything, my father’s a terrible shot.”

  “What about you?”

  “He won’t shoot me. He likes me and I’m not the one prickin’ his daughter. Better go.”

  He kissed her. “I love you.”

  Hoisting up his pants, he slipped out of her and ran as fast as he could for the truck. When the first shot blasted through the air he nearly shit himself. “He’s really fucking shooting!”

  Panicked, he dove into the truck, his pants catching on something and tripping him as he crashed into the door. Another shot went off and Maureen shouted, “Damn it, Daddy! Mum!”

  “Shamus, put that fuckin’ gun back!”

  They were all nuts. Jamming the key into the ignition, her overturned the engine and gunned it, peeling out as he rounded the corner of their street. His leg was killing him, but he didn’t have time to stop.

  He’s almost lost his life to a madman with a shotgun, yet he suddenly laughed hysterically. Grinning so wide his cheeks hurt, he mumbled, “This is my child’s lineage.”

  When he got to town the blood from his legs was soaking through his pants. He stopped at O’Malley’s were he knew Paulie and Liam would likely be.

  Hobbling into the bar, Rosemarie was the first to see him. “Jesus, what the hell happened to you?” She came racin’ around the bar in a panic, Liam frowning from the back room.

  “Your father.”

  She shoved him into a chair and tore his ripped pants wide to get a better look at the damage. “My father?”

  “He took a shot at me. Three actually.”

  “What?” Her eyes went wide with disbelief. “Did he hit you?”

  Frank laughed. The pain in his leg did nothing to quell his incredible mood. “No. I cut myself making an escape.”

  “Liam, get me a wet towel and some vodka. Do you know what you cut yourself on?”

  “No.”

  She shook her head. Liam handed her the things she asked for and she uncorked the bottle of vodka. He hissed as she dumped a good amount over his thigh. The blood washed away and immediately welled back up. “You might need stitches, Frank. Maybe a tetanus shot.”

  That was out of the question. He took the vodka and tipped it back, stealing a long sip right from the mouth of the bottle.

  Rosemarie pressed the wet towel into his leg. “Put pressure on this and keep it there until the bleeding slows. Try not to gush all over my floor.”

  Liam took a seat and slid him a glass, holding one for himself. Frank filled his tumbler with some of the vodka and tipped the bottle at his friend. Liam nodded, so he topped him off.

  His friend sipped slowly, studying him as he grinned and swallowed. “What were you doing that he took a shot at you?”

  Frank arched a brow and Liam burst into laughter. “You’re lucky he’s got shitty aim.”

  “Aye.” He turned and found Rosemarie’s expression no longer friendly.

  “He might not have missed if you had bigger balls.”

  “Honey,” Liam warned, but she waved him away.

  “Don’t you ‘honey’ me. I know you agree with me.”

  “Agree with her about what?” Frank asked.

  “Nothing,” Liam said, but Rosemary, a typical O’Leahey woman, talked right over her husband.

  “Your wee little balls.”

  He frowned. “I’m lost.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Where the hell have you been, Frank? You’ve got a wife now!”

  “Honey, it’s none of our business.”

  “Oh, shut up, Liam. She’s my little sister. Of course it’s my business.” Her scowl returned to him.

  Frank swallowed, wishing his leg would quit bleeding so he could leave. “I know I’ve been absent, but I plan to remedy that. I’ve apologized to Maureen, and we’re starting fresh.”

  “Have you ever seen my sister cry, Frank? She only does it when her heart is truly breaking. You broke her heart, runnin’ off hiding like you did.”

  He swallowed. “I was wrong, but I plan to make it up to her. I’m going to find a place for us to live and we’re going to do this right.”

  “What about your dad’s house?” Liam asked.

  Frank shook his head. “It won’t be there in a few weeks. Let the bank have that acre. I’d rather take the money I’ve saved and put it towards…other things.”

  For some reason he hesitated mentioning the pregnancy, figuring Maureen might want to tell her sister herself, but it wasn’t easy. He wanted to celebrate and share the incredible news with his friends.

  “All right then,” Rosemarie agreed. “You owe me ten dollars for that bottle of vodka. I’ll get you another towel. The bleeding should have yielded by now.”

  When she walked away he grinned at Liam. “They’re all nuts.”

  “Aye,” Liam agreed. “But would you have them any other way?”

  “No. Their passion’s unmatched.”

  “That it is.” He raised his glass. “To love, marriage, and fathers with terrible aim.”

  “Salute.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Do you not feel well, love?” It was the second time he noticed her shifting and pushing around the food on her plate.

  “I don’t have much of an appetite today.”

  He chuckled. “You likely shouldn’t have eaten all that watermelon.”

  She pouted. “What was I supposed to do? Mary wanted it.”

  He grinned, loving when she used their daughter’s name. Lord help them if the baby turned out to be a boy. They’d have to call him Mary out of habit. “Do you want me to order you something other than the chicken?”

  “No. I’d like another glass of water though.”

  He nodded and went to the bar. Rather than bother Rosemarie as she dealt with a customer, he refilled Maureen’s glass on his own.

  It had been three weeks since discovering Maureen was pregnant, making her roughly six weeks along and she was just starting to slightly show. Pregnancy agreed with his wife.

  She never complained, even when he knew she wasn’t always comfortable. Her complexion was glowing and her overall disposition was one of serene, maternal tranquility. She’d already made Mary several blankets and was currently working on some booties.

  He returned to the table and handed her the water.

  “Do you mind if we go soon? The smoke is starting to turn my stomach.”

  “We can go now.” He helped her up.

  “I’m just going to use the ladies room first.”

  “Take your time.” He waited by the bar and when Maureen returned they left.

  He’d made a habit of having dinner with her every night, though there weren’t many places to go in Center County. One of these days he hoped to be invited into her home to share her family’s table, but that was a long way off. Until he proved himself a capable provider, her father was nowhere near accepting of
their marriage.

  They were getting there. They’d looked at a few apartments, but the two bedroom ones weren’t as easy to come by. The ones they found were not where he wanted his wife and child to live.

  As they drove home Maureen was quiet. He reached for her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “You feel all right, love? You’re being quiet.”

  “I’m fine. My back’s bothering me.”

  He frowned, knowing it must be really hurting her for her to say something. “We could go to the mountain, park under the stars and I could rub your shoulders.”

  “I just want to go home. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  She shut her eyes and he took the turns slow. When he reached her house, he gently touched her cheek. “Love, we’re here.”

  Her brow tightened and she hissed, her hand going to her stomach. “Frank, something’s not right.”

  “Is it your back?”

  Her eyes closed as she sucked in a jagged breath. “I don’t know. I need…Get my mum. Please. Hurry.”

  He yanked the door open and ran to the house, not bothering to knock, “Mrs. O’Leahey!”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing bursting into my house, boy?” Maureen’s father snapped.

  “I need your wife. It’s Maureen. Something’s wrong,” he snapped and her father paled.

  “Mary! Maureen’s in trouble.”

  Her mother came racing through the house. “Where is she?”

  “My truck. We were at dinner and she didn’t feel good. Then she complained about her back hurting. Next thing I know she’s doubled over in pain—”

  She was gone before he could finish. When they followed her to the truck, both men timidly standing back, she turned and shouted, “Shamus, call Dr. Carol! Tell him Maureen’s miscarryin’ and he needs to get here right away.” She turned back to Maureen and at his wife’s sob, his world came shattering down.

  The breath knocked from his lungs as if someone kicked him in the gut. Gasping, he reached for something that wasn’t there and stumbled. Time stood still as he waited for her mother to turn around and admit she’d made a mistake, that the baby was just fine and Maureen just had indigestion.