“No.”
“Interesting. Maggie didn’t say much, either.”
“How discreet of her,” Ryan said sarcastically. “It’s a pleasant change.”
Rory frowned at him then. “Maligning Maggie won’t fix whatever’s bugging you.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“Talking it out might help.”
“I am not discussing this, not with you, not with Maggie,” Ryan said forcefully, his gaze leveled at his friend. “Are we clear on that?”
“Whatever you say,” Rory said. “I suppose I’m expected to call her and tell her you’re still among the living?”
Ryan shrugged. “Up to you.”
“Perhaps I should drive out to console her,” Rory suggested slyly.
Ryan felt his gut tighten. “Don’t expect me to object.”
“Okay, that’s it,” Rory declared, plopping down on the sofa. “I’m not leaving here until you tell me what happened. The day you say it’s okay for me to pay a visit to Maggie is obviously the next-to-last day of the world.”
Despite his foul mood, Ryan felt his lips twitch. “It’s nothing that dire. It’s just that it’s over,” he told Rory, keeping his tone surprisingly even. “Not that there was anything to begin with, just the promise of something.”
“And you ended it, I suppose.”
Ryan thought back over the scene outside of Maggie’s. He’d said the words that had ended it, but it was Maggie who’d walked away. There was equal blame, if he wanted to be honest about it. No, he corrected, the blame was all his. He’d done what he was so good at doing. He’d shut her out, this time with a declaration she couldn’t ignore.
“Yeah, I suppose I ended it,” he admitted.
“Why the devil would you do a lame-brained thing like that?” Rory demanded, clearly dumbstruck. “And on Christmas, too? Have you no heart at all?”
Ryan met his friend’s scowling gaze. “No,” he said evenly. “And isn’t that the point?”
“Sure, and if that’s so, then why does it appear to me that it’s not your hard head that’s suffering so tonight? It seems to me it’s your heart that’s broken,” Rory said, then headed for the door. “Think about that one, why don’t you?”
When the door clicked shut, Ryan closed his eyes against the tide of anguish and regret washing over him. He tried once again telling himself that he’d done the right thing, but being in the right was cold comfort.
The remainder of Christmas day passed in a blur for Maggie. She managed to keep a smile on her face, but she didn’t really fool anyone. She knew, because they all tiptoed around Ryan’s sudden disappearance, not a one of them asking why he’d gone. Matt quietly offered Father Francis a lift back to the city, and the priest left after giving Maggie’s hand a sympathetic squeeze. Obviously, not even he intended to try to explain away Ryan’s abrupt departure. Of course, Maggie already knew the answer to that. He’d left because he couldn’t bear to spend another minute in her company…and because she’d run at the first sign of trouble.
The fact that her call to Rory had been as pointless as every other attempt to get through to Ryan only made her heartache worse. He’d called back to confirm that Ryan had gotten home, adding nothing more, not even a glimmer of hope that Ryan’s brooding state was likely to change come morning.
After several restless, sleepless nights, by the following Monday morning Maggie had convinced herself that she ought to search for the Devaneys if Ryan wasn’t going to do it. They were the key to this.
Downstairs, though, in the clear light of day, she knew that finding Ryan’s family wasn’t up to her. No matter how important she thought it was for Ryan to confront the past, he was the only one who could make the decision to do so.
“Maggie?” her mother said, studying her worriedly. “What’s troubling you? I haven’t wanted to pry, but did you and Ryan have a fight the other day? Is that why he left?”
Had it been a fight? Not really. He’d simply told her he didn’t need her, that he never would. She’d walked away without a word.
“No,” she said wearily, stirring sugar into the tea her mother set in front of her.
“Then what?”
“I can’t talk about it, not just yet,” she said.
“I saw the hair clips he gave you. They’re lovely.”
Maggie smiled. “Aren’t they? He couldn’t have picked a more perfect gift.”
“Did you give him his present?”
She shook her head. “I never had the chance.”
“Will you take it to him?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Because you don’t want to be the one to take the first step toward mending fences? Pride’s a lonely bedfellow,” her mother reminded her. “If it were me, I’d take it today and resolve whatever disagreement you had so you can start the new year fresh.”
Maggie sighed. It wasn’t pride that had her considering staying away from the pub. It was a matter of protecting her aching heart.
But deep inside, she knew that staying away was impossible. The two most important people in Ryan’s life had turned their backs on him at a critical time. She was not about to be just another person who loved him and let him down.
And she did love him. She’d accepted that weeks ago. She’d also accepted that she’d found her niche at the pub. She liked working side by side with Ryan. She loved making the customers feel welcome, loved the homey feel of the place, the impromptu singing that livened the atmosphere on many a night. Who would have thought that Father Francis would have a voice like an angel?
Maggie was not going to give up any of that without a fight. She stood up, then bent to kiss her mother’s cheek. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For reminding me what’s important,” she said.
“Did I do that?” her mother inquired innocently.
Maggie grinned. “You and Dad do that every day, just by being who you are.”
A serene smile stole across her mother’s face. “If we’ve given you an understanding of what marriage can be at its full potential, then we’ve done well by you.
