House Calls: Callaghan Brothers, Book 3 (23 page)

“I love you so much, Michael,” she finally managed, her voice thick with unshed tears, choked with emotion.

“I love you, too, Maggie.”  She moved closer, letting his arm curl around her, resting her head on his shoulder.

“The dinner was wonderful.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I’m pregnant.”

There was only a brief pause before he answered.  “I know.”

She pulled back enough to look at him.  His face, as beautiful as if carved by angels, smiled patiently at her.  His eyes, a bright, luminous blue, pierced her all the way to her toes.  Her eyes widened in stunned surprise.  Her mouth opened several times before she actually managed to get the words out.  “But how?  Did Lexi –“

* * *

“N
o,” Michael assured her, raising her hand to his lips and kissing her fingers tenderly.  “Lexi told me nothing.  You seem to keep forgetting that I am a doctor, Maggie.” 

There was only a trace of admonishment in his voice; he couldn’t genuinely inject any more since conscious recognition of her pregnancy hadn’t actually occurred to him until yesterday.  With a slight pang of guilt, he also neglected to admit the images on Ian’s computer had nearly stopped his heart in his chest, or that he spent the rest of that night and following morning berating himself for not recognizing the now-obvious signs for what they were.   

When it came to Maggie, it seemed, his wealth of knowledge, his ability to think clearly, and his common sense took a back seat to his much baser nature.  Love.  Claim.  Possess.  Protect.  As much as he’d like to believe otherwise, that is what she reduced him to.  In that respect, he was no better than his caveman ancestors.

A bit humbling, perhaps, but it was what it was.

The truth was, he
should
have known. Maybe he had, somewhere deep down.  The images, as startling as they were, were more affirmation than revelation.  From the moment he saw them, everything just clicked into place.

“You didn’t say anything.”  Was that a trace of accusatory petulance in her voice?

“Neither did you,” he pointed out.  His thumb brushed away the tears that now spilled freely over her cheek.  “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Maggie let him lead her into the house, numbly crouching down to greet George. 

“Michael –“

“Sssshhh.  It’s okay, Maggie.  It’s been a long day, and you need to relax.  We’ll talk later.”

With a hand upon her lower back, Michael guided her upstairs, where he ran a warm bath for her.  He undressed her, then waited until she was safely ensconced in the tub.  Leaving her to soak and unwind a bit, he went back downstairs to let George out, feed him the leftovers they’d brought back for him, and close up the house for the night.  Only once she was properly dried and tucked into bed beside him did he allow her to bring up the subject again.

* * *

“M
ichael,” she said as he moved to the other side of the bed and began to remove his clothes.  She forced herself not to look at him, knowing she would lose her courage if she did.  The mere sight of his hard, muscled body practically sent her mind into shutdown mode as her body prepared itself for him in hopeful anticipation.  As it was, just knowing he was there, knowing what he was doing, was hard enough. 

“Is that why you want to marry me?  Because I’m pregnant?”

Michael lifted up the sheets and slid in beside her, his arms immediately reaching for her, pulling her close.  “It’s one of a thousand reasons, Maggie,” he said in that gentle, thoughtful way he had.  “I would be lying if I said I didn’t want our child to carry my name.  Or his mother, for that matter.  But it’s not the primary reason.  I’ve known from the first night we met that you were the one I’ve been looking for, Maggie.  The only woman I dream of spending the rest of my life with, of growing old with.  And I would have asked you to marry me whether you were pregnant or not.”

She settled against his chest, her body melting into his as she inhaled his clean, male scent.  She had barely slept while she was away.  Now she realized it was because the pillows hadn’t had his scent.  She wondered if he knew that he had left behind one of his shirts several months ago, that she kept it tucked safely beneath her pillow.  That she buried her face in it and cried countless times when she thought she had lost him forever.

Now he was telling her that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.  Dare she even hope?  “You’re not upset with me?”

Michael ran one hand lazily up and down her back, closing his eyes. “Upset with you?  Your warm, naked body is against mine.  You are in my arms, where you belong.  And my child is growing inside you.  The only thing that could possibly make me happier is if you agree to marry me.”

She picked her head up, gazing at him doubtfully.  Michael was a wonderful man, but even he had his limits.  “But I didn’t tell you.”

Michael opened one eye, continuing the tender strokes from her shoulders to her hips.  It felt so good she arched into it, needing, wanting more.  Now she understood why George liked being petted so much.  “You would have,” he said confidently.  “You’ve been trying to tell me for a while now, haven’t you?”

Maggie laid her cheek back against his chest, muttering.  “You could have told me, saved me a little anxiety.” 

Had she still been looking, she would have seen the slight quirk to his lips.  “Consider it penance for not trusting me enough to tell me.”

“It wasn’t a matter of trust, Michael,” she said quietly.  “I didn’t realize I was pregnant until a few days after you’d left.  I thought maybe I was late because of the surgery, but then it still didn’t come, so I bought one of those tests ...”

Michael closed his eyes again.  “You could have called me, Maggie.”

Should she tell him how many times her hand had been on the phone?  How many times she had dialed the number at the Pub, only to hang up after the first ring? 

“I was afraid to.  Afraid of what you might say.  Of what you might want me to do.”  The slight tremor in her voice was unmistakable.  “Because no matter what the tests say, Michael, I want this baby.”

Michael stiffened, and a decided chill surrounded her.  “You think I would be capable of that?” he asked, his voice rough.  “That I could ever suggest such a thing?”

“Not under normal circumstances, no,” she said quietly.

“Not under
any
circumstances.”

“But I had the surgery, the anesthetic.  What if it hurt the baby?” 

“Then we would have dealt with it, Maggie.  You and I.  Together.”  He stroked her hair, kissed the top of her head.  “But if it makes you feel any better, the hospital always performs a pregnancy test before any procedure as a standard practice.  It doesn’t eliminate the risk, but it does reduce the possibility of harmful side effects.”

“They did a pregnancy test?  Don’t they need consent?”

“In an emergency situation, technically no, they don’t.  As long as they can prove they had the best interests of you and your unborn child at heart they would not be held liable.  At the time, you were semi-conscious and hysterical, Maggie, incapable of making any rational decisions.  But to be clear,
I
gave consent.” 

It was her turn to stiffen, but she relaxed again almost instantly.  While she had been furious at the time that he had gone against her wishes, she now understood why he had done what he did.  Just as she had ripped his DNR to shreds without a second thought. 

“So you knew before I did?”

“No.  They didn’t tell me the results of the test, and I’d been too distracted to ask.  Since Roberts performed the actual surgery, I was not informed.”  The disapproval – or disappointment – was evident in his voice.

“But if they had, Maggie, you have to believe that I would never have left.  And that I want you and our baby, no matter what.”

“We like to think that, Michael, but none of us know for sure how we’ll react until we’re actually in the situation.”

“
I
know.”

Maggie stayed quiet, the pads of her fingers sliding in small circles over his chest. 

“We’re not talking about me anymore, are we, Maggie?”  Her fingers stopped their gentle caresses; he felt her breath hitch.  “Tell me, baby.”

And so she did.  She told him about her mother’s pregnancy, how the doctor had run tests and prescribed medications that had resulted in hemorrhaging and early labor.  How an unnecessary hysterectomy had been performed, robbing her parents of the opportunity to have the big family they had always dreamed of. 

How, as a child, she had been in the hospital more than out of it, until her parents couldn’t look upon her anymore without overwhelming grief and sadness. 

She told him of how the last time she came home from the hospital, her grandparents told her that her mom and dad had returned to Ireland for a while to “get better”.  But they never came back.  And slowly, it was her grandmother’s remedies – not to mention her unconditional love - that had made her whole again.

Michael tightened his arms around her.  “Oh, baby.  I’m so sorry.  I didn’t know.  No wonder you hate hospitals.”

“How could you possibly have known?” she sniffed. 

“I know now,” he said.  “And I promise you – I will never let anything happen to you or our baby, Maggie.”

She felt his words, the absolute conviction with which they were spoken.  And she believed him.

“I saw a specialist in Benton,” she told him, watching him closely.  She didn’t want to hide anything from him anymore.  It wasn’t fair to either of them.  “Lexi pulled a few strings, and got me in to see the woman who had cared for her during her pregnancy.”

To his credit, Michael kept his expression and his voice calm, though she felt him subconsciously tighten his hold while concern deepened his eyes to sapphire.  “Are you having problems with the pregnancy, Maggie?”

“No,” she said honestly, hoping he would believe her, knowing she hadn’t really given him reason to.  “Lexi and Taryn assured me that everything I was feeling was perfectly normal.  But I was afraid that with the surgery and the meds ...”  She couldn’t finish the thought.  “All but one or two of the tests have come back negative, thank God.”

“You shouldn’t have gone through that all alone, Maggie,” he admonished gently.  “I should have been there with you, holding your hand if nothing else.”

“I didn’t want to worry you, Michael.  You’re still recovering.” 

* * *

M
ichael allowed her warmth to seep into him.  Touching her was imperative; it gave him a sense of profound peace.  As long as he could do that, anything was possible. 

He prayed for the strength to be calm, caring, and supportive.  If he had known about the baby, he wouldn’t have traded with Shane for that mission.  He wouldn’t have tried to sneak into the camp on his own, his only thought being that his brothers had wives to get home to.  That one uncharacteristically irrational act almost cost his son a father. But, as Taryn had pointed out to him, Maggie had no idea of the situation he had placed himself in until after he’d already been wounded.  She believed he was living at the Pub, the biggest danger he faced daily being the fifteen minute commute to and from the hospital.  He could hardly berate her for withholding information when he had kept quite a bit from her.

He wished there was something he could say, something he could do to make her understand, to reassure her that no matter what, he was never leaving her side again.  As it was, he would just have to spend the rest of his life convincing her.

He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head as the emotion swelled up inside him, filling his chest, nearly closing his throat.  “Ah, sweetheart.  You went through all that on your own just so I wouldn’t worry?”

She nodded slightly against his chest.  “I was going to tell you, Michael, I swear it.  I just wanted to know what we were dealing with first.  You were going through so much, I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily.”

God, he loved this woman, even if she did make him crazy.  The mere fact that she loved him that much made anything forgivable.  But it couldn’t happen again.  “Promise me you’ll never keep anything like that from me again, Maggie.”

She was quiet for a few moments, and he knew she was thinking it over carefully.  If Maggie made a promise, she would keep it.  “Only if you promise not to get yourself killed doing some incredibly brave, stupid thing.”

He felt her fear – real, paralyzing fear, not just worry or concern - in the way her heart pounded against his chest at the mere mention of it.  He realized at that moment just how much Maggie had been shouldering alone over the past few months.  Suffering a near fatal hemorrhage that almost claimed her sight.  Discovering she was pregnant from a man who had walked out on her.  Flying halfway across the world after learning he’d been mortally wounded and was not expected to live through the night.  He swore again, to himself and to God, that she would never have to face anything alone again.

“As long as I know you are waiting for me, I will always come back to you, Maggie,” he vowed.

“You’d better,” she sniffed, pulling herself atop him.  He groaned as she took him in her hand and guided him into her.

“You still haven’t given me an answer, you know,” he reminded her as she began to move, riding him slowly, taking him deeper with each stroke.

“Haven’t I?” she hummed, her eyes half-closed as her nails curled into his biceps.

He gripped her hips with his strong hands, holding her in place, keeping her from achieving the penetration she needed so desperately.  “No, you haven’t.”

With one powerful stroke he thrust upward, stretching and filling her until she cried out.  “Yes, Michael!  Oh God, Yes!”

“Glad we’ve got that settled then,” he said roughly, and spent the rest of the evening demonstrating what a good choice she had made.

“S
pencer!” Maggie said in stunned shock as she opened the door.  She hadn’t thought to check the peep hole; she’d been too busy daydreaming, replaying the morning’s long, languorous lovemaking with Michael.  Her body was still sensitive, still slightly swollen and deliciously heavy from his thorough possession.