He kept an arm around her, as the back door burst open to reveal a breathless Niamh. “Is it true?” she gasped. “Wee Maggie’s home?” She looked at her parents with hope and fear. “Is she well?”
Mary walked to her eldest daughter and pulled her close. “She’s suffered,” she whispered, “but I don’t know the extent of it.” She released Niamh and swiped a hand down her soft cheek. “I …” She closed her eyes in resignation. “I don’t have the strength, Niamh, to know what he did.”
Niamh pushed back and gaped at her mother. “You do, Mum. I know you do.” She firmed her shoulders. “We’ll be there and love and support her, no matter what she endured.” Her gaze was filled with sorrow. “Oh, Mum,” she whispered, as she fell forward to hug her mother again.
Mary held her close, finding comfort in comforting her daughter.
Soon most of the family had arrived, and the kitchen was crowded. Ardan entered with baskets of food, proclaiming that he and Deirdre had shut down the café for the evening and had brought the café food to them.
“Ardan, you can’t continue to shut down your café,” Mary chided in a soft voice, although her gaze glowed with relief and approval at the gesture.
“I know, Mum,” Ardan said, as he kissed her forehead and squeezed her arm, after setting down the bread, cakes, and meat pies. “Deirdre was insistent, and she wants to be here to help Maggie too. Too often she feels isolated from the family.” He sobered even further. “Tonight is a night we all need to be together.”
Mary nodded, clasping his hand. “Aye, you’re right of course. Thank you, my Ardan. I don’t know how I would have had the energy to cook tonight.”
“Ah, Deirdre was smart and kind enough to know she was savin’ us from one of the lads’ cookin’.” He winked at Mum, his smile tinged with relief to see a momentary hint of humor in her gaze. It faded, as she glanced toward the closed sickroom door, where Dunmore remained with Maggie. “Don’t fret, Mum. He’s a good man.”
“I should be soothin’ my daughter,” Mary whispered. “I should be holdin’ her in my arms and givin’ thanks she’s alive.”
Seamus had approached and heard her low passionate words. “Aye, an’ you will, love. Dunmore’s earned the right to comfort our Maggie too. Imagine if it were you, love. You’d want me, even if your mum were here.”
Mary raised mournful eyes to meet her husband’s sincere gaze. “Aye. Now I understand all too well why you wanted another year, Shay.”
He sighed and smiled tenderly at her. “Perhaps, but we won’t be gettin’ it.” Pulling her close, he kissed her on her forehead, forcing a patience he didn’t feel, until he could see his daughter again.
* * *
Dunmore rested with Maggie in his arms, feeling like he had heaven within reach. Finally. Breathing deeply, he buried his nose in the soft skin between her ear and neck, stilling when she squirmed around and attempted to move away from him. “Shh, beloved,” he murmured, moving so he was only holding her in his arms with his head beside hers. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” she repeated in a mortified whisper. “How can you bear being near me? I stink, and it’ll take God knows how many washes to clean me.” Her voice broke.
Turning with the utmost care, so she rolled to her side, Dunmore leaned on one elbow and stroked his free hand down her face. “You’re worried because you think you smell?” He leaned forward and sniffed deeply. “You smell like paradise.”
Pushing up on his shoulder with a grunt, she battled tears. “Don’t mock me.”
His blue-green eyes glinting with sincerity, he shook his head. “I’m not. You smell like a woman in need of a bath, aye, but you’re alive, Maggie. You’re here, in my arms, warm and breathin’ and alive.”
Her gaze locked with his, she rested on her side, still as a stone, mesmerized by what she saw in his expression. “Philip,” she breathed.
“I need you to forgive me, my Maggie,” he rasped.
“Forgive you?” she repeated, her brows furrowing with her confusion.
His fingers continued to caress the silky skin of her face, and he nodded, his gaze gleaming with his sincerity. “Aye. Forgive me for failing you. If I hadn’t been so weak, I would have found a way to track him. I would have found you, and you never would have suffered.” His gaze now glowed with the deepest pain. “I failed you, and I’m so sorry.”
“Philip,” she gasped, as a tear rolled down her cheek. She shook her head and closed her eyes a moment. “I hoped …” She paused and shook her head again. “I knew here”—she held a hand to her heart—“that no matter what happened to me, you’d still want me. You’d never cast me aside.”
“No, love. You knew I’d love you. Love you for the precious woman you are.” He waited until she nodded her head in agreement. “I’ll love you forever, my Maggie.”
“He … He …” She tried to say more, but the words clogged in her throat, and she began to shake.
Pulling her close again, Dunmore rolled to his back and held her against his chest, his arms lightly holding her, as she winced at any firmer touch. “You’re safe. You’re cherished. You’re protected.” He continued to murmur words of love and encouragement, until she had calmed again.
He tensed, as she pushed back and gazed at him with a resolute look. “What is it, love?” He ran a hand over her ratty hair, careful not to entangle his fingers
