“You heard her. She’ll likely be there, but don’t be getting any ideas about her.”
“I didn’t see a ring on her finger,” Sean teased.
Ryan chuckled. “You always did want whatever I had, and most of the time I let you have it. Not this time. Stay away from Maggie.”
“I imagine you have to give that warning to a lot of men.”
“More than you can imagine,” Ryan agreed.
“Then marry her and end the problem,” Sean encouraged. “I saw the love shining in her eyes earlier. I don’t think you’ll get any argument from her.”
Ryan thought of his intention to find the rest of his family and reassure himself that there were no hidden health risks. “One of these days I will,” he said.
“Don’t wait too long,” Sean warned him. “One of the things I’ve learned as a firefighter is just how short life can be. It’s not something to be wasted.”
“Look at you,” Ryan teased, “giving advice to your big brother.”
“I was always the smart one,” Sean retorted.
“Yeah, right. The truth is, Michael was smarter than both of us.”
Sean sighed. “He was, wasn’t he? Remember how he used to plan strategies for winning whenever we played war games? He was only four, and a runt at that, but he was the only kid I ever knew who could maneuver us into a trap in the blink of an eye, even when we were watching out for it.” He looked at Ryan. “Is your detective looking for him?”
Ryan nodded. “No luck so far.” Reluctantly he glanced at the clock and realized that he needed to get back. The pub would be opening soon. Besides, he needed to get away and spend a little time absorbing the miraculous way this morning had gone. “I need to get to work. You’ll come by soon, though, right?”
“I’m working this weekend, but next Friday for sure. I want to hear that Irish band you’ve been bragging about. I haven’t heard a really good rendition of ‘Danny Boy’ since Dad used to sing it in the shower.”
Ryan grinned despite himself. “He did like to sing, didn’t he? And he had a voice that could make people weep, it was so beautiful.” He regarded Sean with surprise. “You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve thought of him in years without a lot of anger welling up inside me.”
“I got tired of hating him years ago,” Sean admitted. “But I never could bring myself to look for him, or any of the rest of you. Probably stubbornness as much as anything. I’m glad you took the initiative. One of these days that detective of yours will come through.”
“Let’s just pray we don’t regret it,” Ryan said.
“How could we? It’s turned out pretty good so far, hasn’t it?”
Ryan drew his brother into a hug. “Yeah, better than good, in fact.”
Maggie kept glancing at the door of the pub, hoping that Ryan would appear. When the time came to open and he still wasn’t back, she consulted with Rory and Maureen, and they insisted on opening without him.
“I suppose you’re right,” she said, but it didn’t feel right.
It was dinnertime and the pub was hopping when Ryan finally walked through the door. He didn’t seem the least bit surprised to see that everything was running as smoothly as usual. He simply took his place behind the bar.
As relieved as Maggie was, she still wanted to smack him for worrying her. The first chance she had, she swung by and announced, “I have a few choice words for you, mister.”
To her surprise he grinned. “Are any of them ‘I love you’?”
“That’s at the end of the list,” she said.
He sighed dramatically. “Then, you might as well start now, so we can get to the end.”
“I would, but in case you haven’t noticed, the place is packed. I have customers who are already wondering where I am with their drinks.”
He gave her a wry look. “Then you might be wanting to give me their order.”
Maggie frowned and handed it over, tapping her foot impatiently while he filled it. Eventually he slid the tray toward her, then tucked his finger beneath her chin. “Thank you for worrying about me.”
“Who said anything about worrying?” she grumbled.
“I might not have much experience with it, but I do recognize it,” he said. “I’m sorry I was late. I needed to think.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all. As you can see, I did not run my car in a ditch. There’s not a scratch on me.”
“And your cell phone? Is the battery on that dead?”
“I ought to say it is,” he said, his gaze locked with hers, “but I won’t lie to you, Maggie. Not ever.”
She gave a curt nod. “That’s something, then.”
She hurried away with the drinks, not because the customers were truly likely to be impatient, but because she didn’t want him to see just how happy his explanation had made her. He needed to sweat a little longer for making her worry herself sick. He needed to understand that what he did—or didn’t do—mattered to her.
It was hours before they had another free minute. Maggie’s feet and back were aching from hauling the heavy trays around all evening, but it was a good kind of exhaustion, the kind that came from doing satisfying work.
She was just about to collapse into a chair and put her feet up, when Rory emerged from the kitchen, his face ashen.
“Um, you guys,” he said in a choked voice, “I think Rosita’s having the baby.”
“Now? In the kitchen?” Juan asked, racing for the door.
Maggie took one look at Rory’s panicked expression and stood up. “Sit before you faint.” She pushed him onto a chair.
He gave her a pained look and popped right back up. “I’m not going to faint. And nobody has time to sit. She’s in labor, and I do not want that baby born in my kitchen. Is that clear?”
Ryan patted him on the back. “Nobody’s going to have a baby here,” he said. “I’ve
