Chapter Twelve

Dylan opened his eyes and met Maggie’s anxious gaze. He forced a smile to his lips.

“I’m fine,” he told her, though it was far from true. “I don’t like hospitals,” he said. “I’ve spent too much time in them.”

“Oh... I see,” said Maggie, relief in her voice.

“Well, I think I’ll be on my way,” he said. “I called Bev and Richard and told them the good news. They sent their congratulations and their...love,” he said, beginning to retreat.

At the door Dylan almost collided with the nurse who’d returned to check on her students.

“Oops...sorry.” She smiled at Dylan as she moved toward the bed. “Well, two star pupils, I see,” she commented.

Dylan held the door open. “I’ll be back later,” he said, before slipping into the hallway.

He didn’t stop until he reached his car. Once inside, he leaned forward to rest his forehead on the wheel, but the minute he closed his eyes there flashed into his head the same vivid images he’d seen a short time ago—images of Maggie naked in her bed, her arms reaching out to him, her smile warm and welcoming.

What he was seeing was a memory. He was sure of it! But hard on the heels of the erotic images came feelings of panic and fear, emotions he couldn’t understand or explain.

Undoubtedly seeing Maggie lying on the hospital bed, exposing her breast for the baby, was what must have triggered his memory. But while he felt a certain excitement in the realization that he’d remembered something, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why the memory should elicit such negative feelings.

He had nothing to fear from Maggie. She was a kind, generous and loving woman. What was he afraid of?

Muttering under his breath, he started the car and drove to Fairwinds, his thoughts in a turmoil.

Richard and Bev eagerly greeted him with questions about the baby, and after assuring them Maggie and the baby were fine, he excused himself, saying he needed a shower and a change of clothes.

A little later, wearing his jeans and a T-shirt, he returned to the kitchen where Bev had set out the food that was to have been their wedding feast.

“So, how much does your son weigh?” Bev asked.

“Seven pounds, five ounces,” Dylan told her.

“Length?”

“Twenty inches,” he replied. He’d watched the nurse take the measurement and marveled at his son’s perfectly formed body.

“Does Maggie have his name picked out?” Bev asked.

“Uh...not that I know of,” Dylan responded. It wasn’t a question he’d thought to ask her.

“I can hardly wait to see the little tyke,” Bev said. “Imagine being born on the same day your parents get married.” She laughed softly.

“Do you think Maggie would mind if we popped up to see her tonight?” Richard asked. “We’d be disappointed not to see the baby before we leave tomorrow.”

Dylan smiled at the two people who’d come to mean a great deal to him in a short time. “I don’t think she’d mind at all. I’m sure she’d love to see you both,” he said.

 

Maggie lay dozing. Although she ached a little, she hoped the feelings of contentment and joy enveloping her would linger for a very long time. The nurse had just taken the baby back to the nursery, and Dr. Whitney had stopped by briefly to see her.

She’d asked him when she could take the baby home, and he’d told her that as long as they both continued to do well, she could take him home the next day.

Elated but tired, Maggie relaxed against the pillows, closing her eyes and letting her thoughts drift back to those unforgettable minutes in the delivery room.

Dylan had been wonderful, holding her hand, helping her with her breathing, keeping her calm and focused. She doubted she’d ever forget the look on his face when Dr. Whitney handed him his son.

They were a family now, and Maggie prayed they’d have time to learn and grow as a couple and as parents, before Dylan’s memory returned and the past caught up with them.

A light tap at the door brought her eyes open, and she smiled when she saw Bev carrying a small, stuffed rabbit, and Richard with a bouquet of pink carnations.

“Oh! You guys...how sweet.” Tears gathered in Maggie’s eyes. “Thank you,” she said as she hugged each of them in turn.

“We stopped by the nursery to see the baby,” Bev told her. “He’s simply adorable...absolutely perfect.”

Maggie grinned. “He is, isn’t he,” she agreed proudly.

“Dylan’s still there, standing at the window staring like a proud and besotted father,” Richard told her.

A warmth spread through Maggie, and her heart gave a crazy leap.

“He’s a handsome little fella, all right,” Bev went on. “I think he looks like you.”

“And I think he looks like—”

Before Maggie could finish, the door opened and an enormous stuffed bear appeared in the doorway.

Maggie laughed, her heart bursting with love, as Dylan joined them. For the second time in as many minutes tears pooled in her eyes. “Oh, Dylan...he’s adorable.” Her voice wavered.

Dylan flashed her a brief smile and set the bear on the foot of the bed before dropping into a chair nearby. Maggie kept her smile in place, blinking back tears and fighting down her disappointment.

She’d been hoping for a warmer greeting from him, a kiss, a touch, something that would tell her those precious moments they’d shared during the birth of their child had forged a bond between them.

Bev kept the conversation flowing, making Maggie laugh with tales of her and Richard’s experiences after bringing Kelly, their first child, home from the hospital.

“We’d better let Maggie get some rest. She’s had quite a day,” Bev said half an hour later. Approaching the bed, she gave Maggie a warm hug.

“How long do they keep new mothers in the hospital, these days?” Richard asked.

“The doctor said I might be able to take the baby home tomorrow,” Maggie told them. “He’s healthy and strong and nursing well. Dr. Whitney’s going to pop in and see us both in the morning. But with any luck we should be out of here and home tomorrow afternoon.”

“Unfortunately Beverly and I have to leave in the morning.” Richard’s tone held a note of sadness.

“Oh, right,” Maggie said. “In all the excitement, I forgot you folks were going home tomorrow.” She smiled at them both. “You’ve been so wonderful. I don’t know how to thank you for all you’ve done,” she said.

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Bev assured her.

“And we’ll see you same time next year,” Richard reminded her. “We’ll celebrate your first wedding anniversary and the baby’s first birthday,” he said. “But we’ll call first and confirm, won’t we dear?” He flashed his wife a teasing grin.

Maggie laughed. “And I’ll send a confirmation notice out tomorrow,” she assured them. “You know you’re welcome anytime,” she added, her vision blurring with tears.

“Take care of yourself and that beautiful son of yours.” Bev gave Maggie’s hand one final squeeze.

“I will. And thanks for everything,” Maggie said.

“Bye. Maggie,” Bev and Richard said in unison.

“Enjoy that baby of yours! He’ll be a teenager before you can blink,” Richard joked as he raised his hand in farewell.

As the door closed behind them, Maggie turned to Dylan, now standing at the foot of the bed.

She’d hoped he would stay and spend some time alone with her.

“What time should I pick you up tomorrow?” he asked.

“Dr. Whitney said after lunch would be fine,” Maggie replied.

“How about two o’clock?” Dylan suggested.

“Sure...that’s great,” Maggie answered. “I’ll call if there’s any change.”

“Fine. I’ll see you at two tomorrow,” he said, before following the Chasons from the room.

Maggie sank back against the pillows, biting her lower lip, determined not to cry. During her labor he’d been so attentive, so caring, so wonderfully supportive. Now he seemed like a total stranger, and she was at a loss to understand the reason for the change.

 

Maggie glanced at the clock on the wall for the hundredth time. It was almost two-thirty and there was still no sign of Dylan. Dr. Whitney had already signed her and the baby’s release, telling her to bring the baby to the office in a couple of weeks for a checkup.

Though she was still a little sore in places, Maggie was thrilled to be going home. She’d showered and washed her hair, and the loose-fitting pants and regular-size blouse she wore felt wonderfully slimming. She glanced down at her feet, amused she could actually see them.

The nurse had brought her son for his feeding an hour ago, and when he’d had his fill, she’d changed him and dressed him in the tiny baby outfit she’d packed in her overnight bag.

Where was Dylan? Surely he hadn’t forgotten he was picking them up? It was much more likely that the Chasons had hit a snag and been delayed leaving.

The other alternative was unthinkable....

The baby whimpered in his sleep, and Maggie walked over to the bassinet to gaze down at her son, wrapped securely in his own baby blanket. The nurses had asked her if she’d picked out a name for him yet, but she’d told them she hadn’t.

During her pregnancy, she’d browsed through a multitude of name books, but not one had caught her fancy. She’d decided to wait until after the baby was born, feeling it was important to see the baby first before choosing a name.

When she heard the door behind her open, her heart skipped a beat. She turned to see Dylan in jeans and a checkered short-sleeved shirt, looking a little hassled.

“Sony I’m late,” he said. “I was trying to fit the baby seat in the car. It took me longer than I expected,” he told her.

“Oh, I see,” Maggie replied, pleased he’d thought of the car seat, which she’d stored in the closet in the baby’s room. “Thanks. I’d forgotten about it.”

“Bev was the one who asked if you had one,” Dylan said. “I said I had no idea, and she suggested checking the baby’s room.” He crossed to the bassinet to gaze down at his sleeping son.

“Here we are, Mrs. O’Connor,” a nurse appeared, pushing a wheelchair. “If you’ll take a seat.” She patted the chair. “I’ll hand you the baby.”

Five minutes later Maggie was in the front seat of the car, staring at Dylan’s handsome profile, wondering at the tension she could sense in him.

Something was wrong; she could feel it. The baby slept the entire journey to Fairwinds, and throughout the drive, Maggie tried to tell herself she was only imagining Dylan’s withdrawal.

He brought the car to a halt in front of the garage doors and climbed out. It was as he opened the passenger door for Maggie and helped her from the car that she finally found the courage to voice the questions buzzing like bees inside her head.

“Dylan...” she began tentatively, stopping him before he could open the rear door. “Is something wrong? I mean, you seem different...withdrawn somehow. I wondered...if you’ve changed your mind—”

“About what?” Dylan asked.

Maggie swallowed the ball of emotion lodged in her throat and bravely met his gaze. “About our marriage—about whether you really want to stay on here... about everything.” Her even tone belied the turmoil going on inside her. “If you’ve changed your mind, I’ll understand. I just need to know...that’s all.”

Dylan lowered his gaze to the ground. “Maggie, I don’t—” he began, but before he could say more the baby, who’d been sleeping peacefully, started to cry.

“He’s probably hungry. I’d better get him inside and feed him,” Maggie said, as the wailing from the back seat grew louder and more urgent.

Maggie reached in and unstrapped the fretful baby. Gathering him into her arms, she headed toward the stairs.

Dylan followed. Reaching the deck, he unlocked the French doors for her and stood aside to let her through. Maggie brushed past him into the kitchen and on down the hall.

The baby’s cries grew more demanding, and Maggie opted to forgo changing him until she’d fed him. Her breasts were already filling with milk, and, accustomed to feeding him in bed, she bypassed the baby’s room and carried him into her bedroom.

Placing him on the bed, she quickly unwrapped him from the baby blanket. Unbuttoning her blouse she exposed her right breast.

“There, there, darling...yes,” she crooned as she lifted him into her arms. He was already rooting around and within a few seconds his cries ceased as he latched, like a limpet, onto the source of both comfort and nourishment.

Dylan stopped in the doorway, watching in silence as Maggie fed their son. His gaze lingered again on her pink, rounded breast, engorged with milk.

He’d been surprised, after all Maggie had been through in the past forty-eight hours, that she had picked up on his emotional distress. And he could only admire the fact she was willing to challenge him and face the problem head-on.

She wanted to know if he’d changed his mind about making a future together...if he was staying, if he was planning to uphold the vows he’d spoken only yesterday.

And while he wanted quite desperately to tell her he wasn’t going anywhere, that he wanted to stay... she deserved his honesty.

What he had to tell her was he wasn’t sure of anything anymore...that he was afraid...that he wanted to run...that he was slowly going mad.

Throughout the night his dreams had been filled with vivid images of Maggie, her arms reaching out to him, begging him to stay. But each time he’d tried to take a step toward her in his dream, feelings of panic and fear gripped him, stopping him cold.

He’d lain in the darkness trying to analyze the dream, desperate to make some sense of it. But he’d been forced to face the fact that until his memory returned, until he could fill in the missing pieces of his past, he couldn’t commit himself to anything or anyone.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Maggie’s voice cut through Dylan’s turbulent thoughts, and his eyes darted to meet hers. He hadn’t known until she spoke that that was indeed the decision he’d made.

His throat felt raw. “Yes,” he managed to say, surprised at the pain tightening around his heart.

“Then go! Go now,” she told him, her voice cracking as tears gathered in her eyes.

 

Maggie wasn’t sure how long she’d been gazing at the face of her sleeping son. She’d finished feeding him more than half an hour ago and while she knew she should carry him to his crib, she found a small degree of comfort holding him in her arms.

Easing her legs over the side of the bed, Maggie stood up and carried the baby into his own room. She lowered him to the table and changed him while he slept. Wrapping him in a clean blanket from the drawer, she placed him in his crib and quietly withdrew.

Hungry, she wandered into the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of milk and picked at the leftovers from a wedding meal she and her groom hadn’t even shared.

The house seemed deathly quiet. She sat listening to the silence crowding in around her, and yearned for the solace tears would bring. But she had no tears left.

Resolutely she reminded herself that while she’d lost the man she loved with all her heart, she still had his child to care for, his son to raise.

Soft sounds started to drift to her from the baby’s room, and refilling her glass with milk, she wandered down the hall to see if he was awake. She stood over the crib, gazing adoringly at the tiny figure sleeping soundly.

Suddenly it came to her. She would name the baby after the two men she loved most. William Dylan O’Connor. Tired and in need of sleep herself, she tiptoed from the room.

Maggie woke with a jolt, her heart racing. She lay in the darkness, listening for the sound of the baby crying. But there was only a deep silence.

She rolled over to look at the clock and sat up with a start when she saw a figure silhouetted against the window, sitting in the wicker chair. Her heart leaped into her throat when she recognized the occupant.

“Dylan?” His name was a whisper of hope.

“I’m sorry, Maggie. I didn’t mean to wake you.” His voice sounded hollow.

“It’s all right,” she replied, scarcely able to believe he was there.

Needing to see his face, to confirm that she wasn’t dreaming, she reached out and switched on her bedside lamp. Light spilled over them, and as she met his gaze, she saw a look of uncertainty mixed with fear in his eyes.

“What...why did you come back? Did you forget something?” she asked, suddenly afraid to let herself believe there might be another reason for his return.

“No,” he said.

“Then why?” she persisted.

“I came back because I’ve remembered,” he said in a voice filled with raw emotion.

“You’ve remembered?” Maggie repeated. “You mean your memory has come back? You’ve remembered... everything?”

“Yes, I’ve remembered everything,” he said, and at his words her hopes plummeted.

“But how? When? What happened?” The questions flew off her tongue in rapid succession.

Dylan rose from the chair and raked a hand through his hair.

“I was heading for the freeway when I noticed a truck coming toward me with its headlights on. The sun popped out from behind a cloud, blinding me, and I must have panicked, because when my eyes finally adjusted I suddenly realized I’d crossed the median and we were on a collision course.”

“My God...what happened?” Maggie demanded.

“I yanked the wheel to the right and slammed on the brakes, and the next thing I remember is skidding to a halt on the dirt shoulder.”

“You aren’t hurt?” she asked.

“No...other than getting the scare of my life,” he said. “The truck driver blasted his horn as he went by, but he didn’t stop. I sat there waiting for my heart to slow down, when I felt a shiver chase up my spine...then it all came rushing back. A kaleidoscope of pictures flashed into my head, like a movie of my past... my life.”

“So you remember the funeral...everything—” She halted, realizing, if what he said was true, his protective wall had to be back in place.

“Everything,” he repeated, his voice vibrating with emotion, drawing Maggie’s gaze back to his. But before she could say anything Dylan spoke again.

“I remember making love to you, not once but twice, right here in this room,” he said softly, and Maggie drew a startled breath as his words stirred her own memories of that unforgettable night.

“And I remember waking up with you in my arms,” Dylan continued, “thinking I never wanted to leave you.”

Surprise ricocheted through Maggie. “But you did leave... and you told me—” She broke off, unable to say the words.

“That I was no good for you, that I couldn’t love you or anyone,” he finished for her.

Maggie winced as the pain of those moments returned anew. But if what he said was true...

“Why are you here, Dylan? Why did you come back?” she asked, almost afraid to let the faint glimmer of hope into her heart.

Dylan sank down into the wicker chair and held his head in his hands. “I don’t know...I’m not sure. I just knew I had to come back,” he said, bewilderment in his voice. “I sat by the side of the road for hours, while my past...my life crowded in on me.”

Restless, he stood up and moved to the window to stand with his back to her, staring outside. “All I remember about my childhood was that I was very unhappy, moving from one foster home to another. Not that the people were bad or anything. But it wasn’t long before I realized I just didn’t belong...no one loved me...no one wanted me.” He sighed and Maggie’s heart ached for the little boy he’d been.

“I used to dream that my parents would magically appear one day, tell me they loved me and take me home... but they never did.”

Maggie rose from the bed and crossed to where he stood at the window.

“I taught myself not to care, not to get emotionally attached to anyone or anything. It was easier that way. You didn’t get hurt, because you only get hurt when you really care about something...or someone....

“I began to build an invisible wall, a wall that kept people out, stopped me from getting hurt, and it worked,” he told her. “But as I sat in the car and the memories replayed in my mind, I realized I was doing exactly what my mother and father had done to me, I was abandoning my son. And I felt sick to my stomach.... I grew up hating my parents, vowing I’d never be like them, but I’m just the same....” His voice trailed off.

“Dylan, don’t do this to yourself.” Maggie couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “Even when you couldn’t remember making love to me, when you didn’t really know if I was telling the truth about the baby...you kept insisting that we should get married. You wanted to do the honorable thing. That’s not running away, that’s facing your responsibilities head-on.”

Dylan turned to face her, a smile curving at the corner of his mouth. “Thank you for that vote of confidence, Maggie... but in the end I did run.”

“You came back,” she flung at him. “And I think I know why,” she said, silently sending up a prayer she wasn’t wrong.

“Then I wish you’d tell me,” he said.

“All right. I will. You came back because you do care, and you want to be a part of your son’s life. You don’t want your son to grow up like you did, without a father.” Something flickered in his eyes, and trusting her instincts Maggie decided to throw caution to the winds.

“You came back because we’re your family, and you love us,” she stated calmly, even though her heart was hammering against her breast as if it were trying to escape.

“It’s true,” she insisted. “But you have to let go of the past, Dylan, and let us be your future.”

Rising onto her toes, Maggie touched his mouth with hers in a kiss so light and fleeting it might never have happened. She drew back and was instantly rewarded when she saw his nostrils flare and a look of desire darken his eyes to molten silver.

A split second later his mouth came down to claim hers in a kiss that set them both on fire. She’d forgotten how intoxicating his taste was, how exotic his scent, how exciting the feel of his body pressed with such urgency against hers.

Dylan plundered Maggie’s hot, sweet mouth, and for the first time in months he felt as if he’d finally come home. He couldn’t seem to get enough of the taste and smell and feel of her, and as the memories of another night returned, he sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the powers that be, for bringing him back to Maggie.

Slowly, reluctantly, he reined in the wild emotions raging through him. Banking the fires, he kissed her swollen lips, and fighting for breath, he pulled away to gaze into her eyes.

“Oh...I definitely feel something for you, I won’t deny it. I’ve never felt this way before. It’s so powerful it scares the hell out of me,” he confessed, and Maggie felt her heart expand with love as any lingering doubts she might have had melted away.

“What you feel is love, Dylan. I know, because it’s what I feel for you,” she said. “I’ve loved you from the first moment I set eyes on you, and it scares the hell out of me, too.” She smiled at his look of surprise.

“If you’re willing to try, we could make this marriage work,” she told him. “Your son needs you, I need you, and I think you need us. And whatever the future holds, we’ll get through it together.”

Dylan thought his heart might explode. No one had ever said those words to him before, no one had ever told him they loved him and needed him. He felt something crumble inside him and knew the wall had come down at last.

Suddenly the sound of the baby crying filled the silence.

“But I don’t know anything about being a father,” Dylan said, voicing the fear that leaped up to torment him.

“You can learn...we can both learn,” she said. “There’s only one problem...”

“Problem?” he repeated.

“It just might take a lifetime to get it right,” she warned, her voice full of love. “Are you willing to try?” she asked as the cries from the baby’s room grew louder.

“I’ll try,” he assured her, a smile tugging at this mouth. “I’m just not sure a lifetime is going to be long enough,” he teased, and hearing Maggie’s soft ripple of laughter, he brought his mouth down to capture hers once more.

“I’d better see to your son,” she said after a brief but rewarding pause.

“Our son...” he corrected.

“Welcome home, Daddy,” Maggie whispered. “Come on, and I’ll give you your first lesson on how to change a diaper.”

Dylan laughed and dropped another kiss on her upturned lips. “I love you, Maggie O’Connor,” he said, and with his arm securely around his wife’s waist, they took the first step into the future.