with herself that she hadn’t seen him originally for the snake he’d turned out to be.
Now…she had to rethink everything. She had to consider that perhaps he really hadn’t known about the baby. And if that was true then what did it mean for all of them? Ah God, she needed time to think, without himstanding within arm’s reach of her and looking good enough to bite.
Irritated beyond measure, she snapped, “It’s hardly my fault that you didn’t get messages I left, now is it?”
He tossed the tie onto his suit jacket. “You’re pregnant.”
“As I’ve said.”
Shaking his head, he looked as though he wanted to say something, but he bit the words back before they could escape. Instead, he swiped one hand across his face, stared at her as if he’d never seen her before, then muttered something under his breath that she didn’t quite catch.
He took a few steps down the polished wood hallway, then stopped and turned around. “Does everyone in the village know about this?”
Maura sighed. It hadn’t taken long at all for her secret to become public knowledge. “Nurse Doherty has ever had a flapping tongue.”
“That means yes, I take it.”
“It does.”
“You ought to sue her,” he mumbled. “Doctor-patient privilege.”
She laughed shortly. “Isn’t that just like an American? Lawsuits the answer to all problems? Well, what good would it do me to sue a woman who’s known me since my mother was carrying me?” Maura sighed again and explained, “It wasn’t Doc Rafferty who spilled the news. Trying to quiet Patty Doherty would be like holding back the tide by building a wall of sand.”
She’d known the moment she left the doctor’s office that fine day that within hours, word of her pregnancywould be spread across all of Craic. Not that she was ashamed of her situation. But if Maura had even guessed beforehand that she might be pregnant, she’d have visited a doctor in Westport, to keep her business her own.
“Are you well?” he asked quietly. “The baby?”
“We’re both fine,” she assured him.
And weren’t they being civilized, Maura thought vaguely. Just two adults who’d made a child, standing in a dimly lit hall speaking to each other like strangers. The cold she’d felt earlier dropped into the freezing range.
When he’d first come to Ireland, there’d been heat. Heat that had burned bright and hot between them, ending in the inevitable. Now though, Maura thought that if he had looked at her then the way he was now, they wouldn’t be in the position they were in.
It wasn’t lust he was showing her now. It was…less and more at the same time. Confusing to both of them, no doubt.
All around them, a storm raged, yet here in the house where she’d lived her whole life, there was a stillness that ate at her nerves and chewed at the edges of her heart. Was he wondering what to do with her? How to keep his affair with a sheep farmer a secret from the press?
Why the devil wouldn’t he say something?
“Must you just stand there staring at me as if I’ve grown two heads?”
He inhaled sharply. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“Oh, aye,” she agreed. “What to do about Maura? Must be bloody difficult to think of the right thing to say.”
He ignored that. “So, the reason the film crew’s having so much trouble…the reason I couldn’t get a roomat the inn or a beer in the pub…” His voice trailed off, but Maura could see him thinking and knew from the expression on his face he didn’t much care for what was in his mind.
“They’re angry on my behalf,” she told him, her voice soft, her words sharp. “Everyone in the village knows I’m pregnant and that you’ve done nothing about it.”
“I—” He took a step toward her and stopped again. “How in the hell could I have done anything about it when you didn’t bother to tell me?”
“I’ve already explained that I bloody well tried to tell you, didn’t I?”
Maura stormed out of the hall
Cinda Richards, Cheryl Reavis