34
MAMA, YOU HAVE TO EAT. Won’t you take one bite?” Deirdre held out a spoonful of Mrs. Harrison’s beef stew, Mama’s favorite, but she only shook her head and turned her face into the pillow.
With a weary sigh, Deirdre set the spoon back in the bowl. It had been three days since Mama’s fall. Dr. Shepherd had examined her and proclaimed her injuries minor in nature, yet an uneasy thread of worry invaded Deirdre’s heart. She’d never seen Mama this despondent, not even after her stroke. She seemed to have lost the will to live, refusing to eat and only sipping at her beloved tea and honey.
Could she have hit her head harder than they imagined? A severe head injury could cause depression and listlessness. Maybe she should persuade Daddy to take Mama to the hospital for more tests. If they didn’t get to the bottom of her melancholy soon, Deirdre shuddered to think of the consequences.
She picked up the tray of untouched food. “I’ll take this back to the kitchen and let you rest.”
At Mama’s weak nod, Deirdre fought the lump that rose in her throat. She should never have left her to go with Matthew and Phoebe. If she’d been here, Mama wouldn’t have tried to get out of her wheelchair unassisted, wouldn’t have fallen and hit her head against the table.
Mama, can you ever forgive me?
She took a last look at her mother’s pale face, eyelids fluttering as she lay unmoving.
Lord, please show me the way to help my mother. There must be something I can do.
She left the door ajar as she carried the tray back to the kitchen.
Mrs. Harrison shook her head. “No luck?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Mrs. Harrison took the tray and set it on the counter. “We can try again later. Perhaps she’ll be hungry then.” Her skeptical look told Deirdre she didn’t expect that to be the case.
“Let’s keep tempting her with the foods she loves,” Deirdre said. “Eventually she’ll have to eat.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.”
Deirdre wandered out into the main hallway. She’d told Colleen she would call with an update, but she hated to report nothing but bad news. Especially in Colleen’s delicate condition, when emotional upset could trigger labor. Maybe she’d wait until later to call. Maybe then Mama—
“Hello, Deirdre.”
Deirdre’s head flew up, and she gasped. She blinked to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, but there he stood, as tall and handsome and solid as she remembered. “Matthew. What are you doing here?”
“Your father called and asked me to come.”
She stared into those familiar blue eyes, which lacked their usual warmth, shadowed by the deep circles beneath them. “And just like that you came?”
“Kathleen’s my patient.”
Of course. Ever the dedicated healer, loyal and true, faithful to his promise.
Unlike her.
Despite her discomfort at his presence, a small bud of hope unfurled. “If you can do anything to get through to her, to even take a bite of food, I’d be most grateful.”
His eyes narrowed. “She won’t eat?”
Deirdre gave an exasperated sigh. “She won’t lift her head from the pillow. Yet Dr. Shepherd can’t find any evidence of further injury. It’s as if the life has gone out of her.” She swallowed hard, unwilling to become an emotional mess in his presence.
“Let me see what I can determine.”
“Thank you.” She looked behind him. “Is Phoebe here?”
He stilled. “No. She’s staying with her grandparents.”
Deirdre’s stomach sank. For Matthew to leave Phoebe behind, he had to have deemed it better for her than coming here. Deirdre hoped her leaving hadn’t undone all the progress Phoebe had made. She’d thought she was doing the right thing, letting everyone get on with their lives, since staying would only have prolonged the inevitable.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to see your mother.” Matthew moved away from her as though he couldn’t bear to be near her.
She watched him walk away, sadness encompassing her at the chasm that now existed between them. Somehow she’d have to endure the pain of Matthew’s presence, for Mama’s sake.
“Truly, Colleen. Matthew has worked a miracle. Ever since he arrived a week ago, Mama’s will to live has returned.”
Colleen’s relieved sigh sounded over the line. “I can’t believe it. I thought this time she might not recover.”
Deirdre leaned back in Daddy’s desk chair. “You and me both. She’s sitting up and eating. Even starting light therapy exercises again. I don’t know what Matthew did, but it worked.”
A slight pause ensued before Colleen asked, “How are things going between you and Matthew?”
Deirdre’s heart pinched with regret. “Matthew’s giving me the cold shoulder. Not that I don’t deserve it after the way I left them.”
“Nonsense. You weren’t trying to hurt anyone. You were just protecting your heart.”
“And breaking it in the process.” Deirdre wisped out a breath. “I just wish I hadn’t hurt Phoebe.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine. One of the beautiful things about children is their resilience. Speaking of children, I’d better check on the boys. They’re much too quiet. Give Mama my love.”
“I will. Take care of yourself.”
Deirdre pushed a lock of hair off her forehead and glanced at the calendar on Daddy’s wall. December 23. Christmas was almost upon them. Would Matthew return to spend the holidays in Toronto?
A pang hit at the thought of saying good-bye to him—again. She couldn’t deny the hiccup to her heart each time she ran into him in the house.
With a deep sigh, she rose from the chair. Instead of wallowing in negative thoughts, she would help Mrs. Johnston with the decorations in the parlor, in preparation for the fir tree Connor would bring home tonight. He and Gil were out cutting down trees for both houses.
The telephone shrilled before she could leave the room.
“Deirdre? It’s Aunt Fiona. How are you, dear?”
Deirdre’s heart jolted to life. Would she have news about medical school? “Fine, Auntie. And you?”
“My arthritis is flaring up these days, but otherwise I’m fine. How is your mother coming along?”
“Much improved, thank you.”
“Ah, the good Lord has answered our prayers, I see. And now I’m about to answer one of yours.” Her aunt’s birds twittered in the background.
“You have news?”
“I do indeed. I’ve managed to secure a place for you in Columbia’s medical program beginning in January.”
Deirdre’s knees buckled, and she sank onto the chair. “January?”
“Isn’t it marvelous? And from the sounds of it, your mother is on the road to good health, so you’ll be free to get on with your career.”
“That is wonderful news. Thank you, Auntie.”
“I couldn’t wait to tell you. Happy Christmas, Deirdre.”
“Happy Christmas.”
Deirdre hung up the receiver and closed her eyes. In a matter of weeks, she would be enrolled in a new medical school. Starting over fresh with a new lease on her future.
Then why didn’t she feel . . . anything?
The door creaked inward.
Deirdre’s eyes flew open to find Matthew standing before the desk, his brow furrowed.
“I’m sorry. I came to use the phone. I didn’t realize anyone was in here.”
“It’s all right. I was just leaving.” She went to get up, but a wave of dizziness hit. Bracing her hands on the desktop, she sucked in a breath.
“Are you all right?” Matthew’s concerned voice sounded by her ear.
“I guess I forgot to eat today.”
“You’re as bad as your mother. At least she had an excuse.” He regarded her without aloofness for the first time, gentling with subtle concern. “You’ve lost weight since you left Toronto.”
“Have I?” She really hadn’t paid much attention to her health, first consumed by grief, then with worry about Mama.
“Yes.” His eyes scanned her in a way that brought the heat to her cheeks.
“Well, Christmas dinner will fatten me up, no doubt. What with Mrs. Harrison’s roast duck, stuffing, and plum pudding.”
A hint of a smile hovered on his mouth. “Sounds delicious. I suspect the Pentergasts’ fare won’t be quite as homey.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “So you’re planning on spending Christmas there?”
An unreadable expression came over Matthew’s face, and he nodded. “I leave tomorrow.”
If Deirdre hadn’t been dizzy before, this news would certainly have done the trick. That and Matthew’s nearness as the hint of his sandalwood soap teased her senses. She raised her gaze to his, and time seemed to grind to a standstill. A thousand regrets weighed heavy on her heart.
She loved him with an intensity that stole her breath.
Why, Lord? Why make me love a man who doesn’t return my feelings? A man I can never have?
“I heard you say something about good news. Is there a reason to celebrate? Another O’Leary birth perhaps?” His teasing tone brought back a flood of happy memories of their former friendship.
“Not for another few weeks.” She forced a smile. “The good news is that my aunt has secured me a place in Columbia’s medical program beginning in January.”
His eyes flickered with a hint of despair before he masked his expression. “Congratulations, Deirdre. I know this is what you’ve been hoping for.”
“Thank you, Matthew. And thank you for helping Mama. Because of her recovery, I’ll be able to accept the position.”
Why, then, am I not happier?
He straightened, his reserve back in place. “Glad I could help.”
She rose, this time forcing her legs to move properly. “I’ll let you make that phone call. Wouldn’t want you to miss getting home for Christmas.”
The next morning, Matthew stared out the parlor window at the ice-encrusted scenery and suppressed the urge to bang his head on the glass.
“An ice storm? Could it not have waited one more day until I was safely home?”
According to the stationmaster, the tracks were so coated with ice that none of the trains could run for at least twenty-four hours.
“Some say talking out loud is a sign of insanity.” James’s laugh boomed out, not helping Matthew’s foul mood.
He dragged a hand over his jaw. “You don’t understand. I promised Phoebe I’d be home for Christmas. She’s going to be devastated.”
“Unfortunately, you can’t control the weather. Give the Pentergasts a call and tell them you’ll be home on Tuesday.”
Matthew blasted out a breath. “I guess I have no choice.”
James clapped him on the back. “Seems it’s been ordained by the heavens that you spend Christmas with us. You might as well enjoy it.”
And, other than missing Phoebe, enjoy it he did.
In fact, Matthew couldn’t remember a time since his childhood when he’d enjoyed Christmas more. Starting with the service at St. Rita’s church and ending with the amazing meal Mrs. Harrison had prepared for them.
Matthew sat back on the sofa in the O’Leary parlor and allowed the one glass of wine he’d indulged in from James’s private stock to totally relax his muscles.
Under the six-foot pine tree, decorated with every manner of twinkling ornament, as well as several long strings of popcorn, the children sat playing with their gifts. Sean had chosen the company of his father and Uncle Connor, who were teaching him the finer points of chess.
Matthew patted his full stomach, sleep tugging at his eyelids. Perhaps he should have followed Colleen’s example and indulged in an after-dinner nap.
Giggles preceded the women’s entry into the room. Matthew’s eyes automatically sought Deirdre. She looked breathtaking in a green velvet dress that sat just off her shoulders, enhancing her elegant neck. A fall of auburn curls teased her shoulders. She laughed at something Brianna said, and her dimples peeked out from each cheek.
Matthew’s pulse stuttered to life like a dry car motor receiving an infusion of gasoline.
She turned, caught him staring, and smiled. Heat crept into Matthew’s cheeks.
What would it be like to see her every day? Laugh with her? Kiss her again?
He stiffened against the back of the sofa. The wine must be playing havoc with his senses. He needed to nip these unwelcome thoughts in the bud.
“Let’s have some music,” Kathleen suggested. “It’s an O’Leary tradition to dance on Christmas. Maggie, would you do the honors?”
“I’d love to.” Maggie took a seat at the piano and began to play.
Matthew had never heard anything so exquisite. No wonder she’d been promoted to head organist at the cathedral.
Gil rose from his chair and held out his hand to Brianna, who snuggled into his arms for a waltz.
“Matthew, why don’t you ask Deirdre to dance?” Kathleen suggested.
Her all-too-innocent request had warning bells ringing in his head. “I’m sure she’d prefer to dance with her father or brother.”
James shot him a strange look and took a seat in the wingback chair beside Kathleen. “If I can’t dance with my best girl, I won’t dance at all.”
Kathleen smiled adoringly at her husband.
Connor quirked a brow. “I’m involved in a riveting game of chess here. Can’t afford to break my concentration.” Connor winked at Sean, who giggled. “And Adam’s disappeared with Rylan.”
Matthew glanced over at Deirdre, who seemed as uncomfortable as he.
“Oh, come on, you two,” Gil scoffed. “It’s a dance, not a marriage proposal.”
Matthew swallowed and loosened the top button of his shirt. Deirdre’s cheeks blazed as red as the Christmas bows.
With a reluctant sigh, he rose and held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”
She shook her head, sending those mesmerizing curls into a spin. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.” More than I should.
“Very well.” She lowered her lashes and placed her hand in his.
He drew her closer so his arm could encircle her. Conscious of the people watching them, he held her at a respectable distance, yet his treacherous pulse sprinted faster than the music. They moved in time to the melody as if they’d been made to dance together.
The scent of some new perfume blended with a trace of cinnamon from her dessert. A few inches more and his nose would be in her hair, right by her ear. A wave of heat pulsed through his body and he ground his teeth together, fighting for control.
Her fingers trembled in his. The shallow puff of her breath heated his neck. Was she as affected as he?
Finally, the last note hung in the air with a flourish. Matthew stepped back with a half bow. “Thank you, Miss O’Leary.”
When she met his gaze, moisture welled in her luminous eyes. His chest clutched with a wave of such longing he could barely bring air into his lungs.
I’m in love with her.
The thought roared through his mind with clarity no amount of wine could hide. God help him, he loved her more than the next breath he would take.
Would it make a difference if he dared confess his feelings for her? She’d already admitted she loved him, but was it enough to sacrifice her dreams for the future? Or would she only grow to resent him after a while?
As Priscilla had.
Matthew slowly released her hand and moved away. No, he couldn’t take that chance. He needed to put all foolish notions aside and let her move ahead on the path she’d chosen.
Standing on the top step of the veranda, Deirdre buffed her arms to ward off a chill. No matter how crazy it was to be outdoors, she needed the blast of cold air to temper the inferno her waltz with Matthew had incited within her. Being held within the circle of his arms, swaying in time to the most romantic of music, his eyes smoldering with a passion she doubted he was even aware of, all combined to engulf her body in a flood of heat—a longing so sweet she dared not indulge it.
She needed to put the dashing doctor far out of her mind, for tomorrow he would return to his life in Toronto.
Deirdre turned to head back inside, but the sight of three figures walking toward the house caught her attention. In the evening light, she recognized Jo Miller and her brother accompanied by Caleb Sullivan. Their cheery waves lifted her spirits. Just the distraction she needed from her brooding.
“Happy Christmas to you,” she called out.
“Merry Christmas, Miss O’Leary.” Jo smiled as she reached the top of the stairs.
“Please call me Deirdre. I hope you’ve had a pleasant day so far.”
“Very. Mr. Sullivan put on a lovely meal for all his staff.”
“It’s tradition to provide a celebration for our employees and their families to show our appreciation.” Caleb stepped forward to kiss Deirdre’s cheek. “Happy Christmas, Dee.”
“Same to you, Caleb. Please come in and join the festivities.”
They entered the foyer, stamping the snow from their overshoes. Mrs. Johnston appeared to help with the coats.
“Most of us are in the parlor.” Deirdre laid a hand on Jo’s arm and leaned in to whisper, “Connor is playing chess with Sean. You might be just the distraction Sean needs to win.”
A pretty blush spread through Jo’s cheeks. “Thanks to Colleen’s loan of this gown, I feel like a princess.” She smoothed a hand over the bodice.
In the striking blue taffeta dress, with her hair curled and styled, the girl did indeed look like royalty. Quite a transformation from the baggy overalls and ugly hat.
Deirdre smiled. “I’m glad Colleen could help. Now go in and watch Connor’s eyes fall out of his head.”
Caleb tapped Deirdre’s shoulder. “May I speak to you in private for a minute?”
At his serious tone, a thread of trepidation ran through her, but she managed a bright smile. “Of course. We can use Daddy’s study.”
Matthew used the excuse of needing to telephone the Pentergasts to leave the parlor in search of Deirdre. After their dance, she’d disappeared and hadn’t returned. He hoped he hadn’t offended her in some way, or that she hadn’t suddenly felt unwell. Her dizzy spell in the study the other day had worried him, even with her reasonable explanation. Still, he’d feel better when he made sure she was all right.
In the entranceway, he encountered Jo and Seth Miller and offered his greetings before heading to find Deirdre.
Farther down the hall, Caleb Sullivan exited James’s study. He barreled past Matthew without a word, and seconds later, the front door slammed.
Matthew turned to see Deirdre emerge from the study, her face wreathed in sadness.
His heart hiccupped in his chest. What had gone on in there? “Deirdre, did Caleb say something to upset you?”
She came to stand at the base of the staircase, staring toward the entranceway. “Yes.” Her answer was so low, he almost missed it. “He proposed.”
Matthew’s gut clenched as a stab of pure jealousy knifed through him. Surely she hadn’t accepted, or Caleb wouldn’t be so angry.
She gave a soft sigh and turned her gaze to him. “I turned him down, and he didn’t take it too well.”
He shoved his fists into his pockets. “I’m sorry he put a damper on your day.”
She seemed to pull herself together and managed a smile. “Not to worry. I just wish I hadn’t had to ruin his Christmas.”
The urge to comfort her rose strong inside him. Instead, Matthew cleared his throat. “Well, I was about to place a call to—”
Above them, the pounding of frantic footsteps sounded on the staircase.
Rylan appeared, hair disheveled, eyes wild. “Matthew, Deirdre,” he said when he spotted them, “I think Colleen’s gone into labor.”
“Are you sure?” Deirdre started up the stairs at a swift pace. “It could be discomfort from eating a big dinner.”
Rylan shook his head. “I know what labor looks like, and this is it.”
Matthew gripped the newel post of the staircase, feeling the blood drain from his face. He’d only assisted at one birth during his residency training, and he’d really only been an observer, not the one responsible for bringing a new life into the world. He remembered the anxious moments when the mother had started to hemorrhage. They’d managed to stop the bleeding and she’d survived, but they’d been in a hospital with equipment at their disposal—
“Matthew, are you coming?” Deirdre had stopped halfway up the stairs to peer over her shoulder.
He tried to swallow, but his throat was as dry as dust. Instead, he forced his feet to move.
And prayed with every step that it was a false alarm.