Lonergan's Secrets: Expecting Lonergan's Baby / Strictly Lonergan's Business / Satisfying Lonergan's Honour. Maureen Child

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СКАЧАТЬ saying that he didn’t have much time left, Sam had thought somehow that his grandfather would be unchanged.

      “Hi, Pop,” he said and forced a smile.

      “Come in, come in,” his grandfather urged, weakly waving one hand. Then he patted the edge of the bed. “Sit down, boy. Let me look at you.”

      Sam did and, once he was close enough, gave his grandfather a quick once-over. He was thinner, but his eyes were clear and sharp. His tan wasn’t as dark as it had been, but there was no sickly pallor to his cheeks. His hands were gnarled, but they weren’t trembling.

      All good things.

      “How you feeling?” Sam asked, reaching out to lay one hand on his grandfather’s forehead.

      Jeremiah brushed that hand away. “Fine. I’m fine. And I’ve already got me a doctor to poke and prod. Don’t need my grandson doing it, too.”

      “Sorry,” Sam said with a shrug. “Professional hazard.” As a doctor, he could respect another doctor’s territory and not want to intrude. As a grandson, he wanted to see for himself that his grandfather was all right. Apparently, though, that wouldn’t be as easy as it sounded. “I spoke to Dr. Evans after I talked to you last month. He says that your heart’s in pretty bad shape.”

      Jeremiah winced. “Doctors. Don’t pay them any mind.”

      Sam laughed shortly. “Thanks.”

      “Don’t mean you, boy,” the old man corrected quickly. “I’m sure you’re a fine doctor. Always been real proud of you, Sam. In fact, I was telling Bert Evans that you might be just the man to buy him out.”

      Sam stood up and shoved both hands in his pockets. He’d been afraid of this. Afraid that the old man would make more of this visit than there was. Afraid he’d ask Sam to stay. Expect him to stay. And Sam couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

      But his grandfather either didn’t notice his discomfort or didn’t care. Because he kept talking. And with every word, guilt pinged around inside Sam just a little bit harder.

      “Bert’s a good doc, mind. But he’s as old as me and getting ready to fold up shop.” He smiled up at Sam and winked conspiratorially. “The town needs a doctor, and seeing as you don’t have a place of your own—”

      “Pop, I’m not staying.” Sam forced himself to say it flat out. He didn’t want to hurt his grandfather, but he didn’t want the old man holding onto false hopes either. Guilt tore at him to see the gleam go out of his grandfather’s eyes. “I’m here for the summer,” he said softly, willing the old man to understand just what it had cost him to come home again. “But when it’s over, I’m leaving again.”

      “I thought.” Jeremiah’s voice trailed away as he sagged back into his pillows. “I thought that once I got you back here, you’d see it’s where you belong. Where all of you belong.”

      Pain rippled through Sam in tiny waves, one after the other. There was a time once, when he was a kid, that he would have done anything to live here forever. To be a part of the little town that had once seemed so perfect to him. To know that this house would always be his.

      But those dreams died one bright summer day fifteen years ago.

      Now he didn’t belong anywhere.

      “I’m sorry, Pop,” he said, knowing it wasn’t enough but that it was all he had to offer.

      The old man looked at him for a long time before finally closing his eyes on a tired sigh. “It’s a long summer, boy. Anything might happen.”

      “Don’t make plans for me, Jeremiah,” Sam warned, though it cost him to hurt the man again. “I won’t stay. I can’t. And you know why.”

      “I know why you think that,” he said, his voice a weary sigh. “And I know you’re wrong. All of you are. But a man’s got to find his own way.” He slipped down farther beneath the quilt. “I’m feeling tired now, so why don’t you come see me tomorrow and we’ll talk some more.”

      “Jeremiah…”

      “Go on now,” he whispered. “Go down and get yourself something to eat. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

      When his grandfather closed his eyes, effectively ending any more tries at talking, Sam had no choice. He turned and headed for the door, let himself out and quietly closed the door behind him. He’d been in the house less than fifteen minutes and already he’d upset an old man with a bad heart.

      Good job.

      But he couldn’t let his grandfather count on him staying. Couldn’t give Jeremiah the promise of a future when the past was so thick around Sam he could hardly see the present.

      He’d long since become accustomed to living with memories that haunted him. But he’d never be able to live here again—where he’d see a ghost around every corner.

      Three

      Maggie sat in her living room and stared across the yard at the main ranch house. No more than twenty feet of ground separated the two buildings, but at the moment it felt like twenty miles.

      In the two years she’d lived at the Lonergan ranch she’d never felt more of an outsider. Never felt as alone as she had that first day when her car had finally gasped its last and died right outside the main gate.

       Tears were close. Maggie was out of money and now out of transportation. Though she had nowhere in particular to go, up until five minutes ago she’d have been able to get there.

       Staring up and down the long, empty road, edged on both sides by open fields, she fought a rising tide of despair that threatened to choke her. The afternoon sun was hot and reflected back off the narrow highway until she felt as though she were standing in an oven. No trees shaded the road, and the last sign she’d passed had promised that the town of Coleville was still twenty-five miles away.

       Just thinking about the long walk ahead of her made her tired. But sitting down and having a good long cry wouldn’t get her any closer to town. And feeling sorry for herself would only get her a stuffed-up nose and red eyes. Nope. Maggie Collins didn’t waste time on self-pity. Instead she kept trying. Kept searching. Knowing that someday, somewhere, she’d find the place where she belonged. Where she could plant herself and grow some roots. The kind of roots she’d always wanted as a child.

       But to earn those roots she had to get off her duff. Resigned, she opened up the car door and grabbed her navy-blue backpack off the floor of the passenger seat.

       “Looks like that car’s about had it.”

       She hit her head on the roof of the old car as she backed out and straightened up all in one motion. The old man who’d spoken stood just a few feet from her, leaning against one of the whitewashed posts holding up a sign that proclaimed Lonergan. She hadn’t even heard him approach, which told her that either he was more spry than he looked or she was even more tired than she felt.

       Probably the latter.

       He СКАЧАТЬ