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

Me. I should have gone in after him. I knew something was wrong. Knew he was in trouble. Felt it. But I waited.”

      “Sam.” Her heart ached for him. For the pain he’d carried for so long.

      “I waited, stood there on the ridge timing him, for God’s sake, while Mac was dying.”

      “You’re being too hard on yourself. You always have been.”

      He snapped her a furious glare. “Weren’t you listening? I knew he was in trouble.”

      “You had a bad feeling. You were a kid, too.”

      He brushed off her attempt at understanding and said, “I was the oldest. I should have known better. It was stupid to jump off that damn ridge. At two minutes and fifteen seconds, I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran and jumped in. The others were right behind me. The lake water was cloudy.” He squinted, as if still trying to see his cousin through the murky water. “Took us too long to find him. Took forever. He was lying on the bottom. We grabbed him and dragged him out. Laid him on the bank and pushed the water out of him, but it was too late. He was dead. Mac was dead.”

      She reached for him, taking hold of his forearm, and his tensed muscles felt like steel beneath her palms. “I’m so sorry, Sam. But it wasn’t your fault.”

      “That’s what everybody said,” he told her on a sigh. “Doc Evans examined the… body. He said Mac broke his neck when he jumped in—and unconscious, he drowned. And after that nothing was ever the same again.”

      “You stayed away, Sam,” she said, sensing somehow that he didn’t want her sympathy now any more than he had before. “You made that choice. You and the others. You didn’t have to. No one blamed you.”

      “I blamed me. Mac drowned. While we all stood there, timing him, he died.”

      “You’re not psychic, Sam. You couldn’t have known that he broke his neck.”

      He shook his head, refusing to hear her. Refusing to drop the burden of guilt he’d been carrying so long it had become a part of him. “I should have known he was in trouble. If I’d gone in when I first wanted to, I could have saved him.”

      “He broke his neck,” she reminded him softly.

      “He was only sixteen.”

      “I know.” She lifted one hand and laid her palm against his chest, feeling the thundering beat of his heart. “But does staying away from Coleville make it easier?”

      “Nothing makes it easier.”

      “Then why stay away? Couldn’t you—I don’t know—honor Mac’s memory by coming home? Being the doctor this town needs? By living your life and being happy?”

      Hope flickered briefly in his eyes before fading away again. God, Sam would like nothing better than to agree with her. To tell her yes, he’d stay. He’d stay here in Coleville, move back to the ranch. Surround himself with everything he’d missed for so long.

      But he couldn’t.

      He’d failed Mac.

      And now he wasn’t allowed to be happy.

      She frowned up at him and he saw the disappointment in her eyes when she asked, “Do you really think Mac would want you all to be miserable for the rest of your lives? To avoid coming home to the place you all loved so much?”

      “No, he wouldn’t,” he said softly, reaching out to run the tip of his fingers along her cheek. “But that doesn’t seem to matter. Not for me. Or the others.”

      “So when the summer’s over, you’ll leave again.”

      He swallowed hard. “Yes.”

      “And not come back.”

      “Yes.”

      “No matter how far you run, Sam,” she said quietly, “you’ll never be able to outrun your past. I know. I’ve tried.”

      Nine

      “Mad at me, aren’t you?”

      Maggie turned from the chest of drawers where she was putting away the old man’s clean laundry to stare at him. He looked worried. And as guilty as a child who’d stolen a cookie just before dinner.

      Her heart turned over and she realized that as disappointed as she’d been in him that he’d lied to her—she was more relieved to know that he wasn’t sick at all. He’d become so important to her over the last two years. This one old man had become the family she’d always longed for, and the thought of losing him had terrified her.

      “Mad?” she repeated with a slow shake of her head. “No, not now. But I was. When Doc Evans first told us the truth.”

      “I’m real sorry about that, Maggie,” Jeremiah said and hung his head before glancing up at her from beneath bushy gray brows. “Didn’t like lying to you, if that’s any comfort.”

      His gray whiskers shone in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through his bedroom window. Wisps of gray hair fluttered around his head in the breeze dancing under the partially opened window. And his dark eyes glittered with the hope that he was forgiven.

      Love filled her, sweet and rich, and Maggie knew she couldn’t hold out against him. Smiling at him, she said, “I’m just glad you’re not really sick, Jeremiah. You had me scared.”

      He winced and hunched his shoulders as he pushed himself off the bed and stood up. “I’m sorry about that, too, girl. It’s just… I couldn’t think of any other way to get my boys home.”

      In a weird way, she understood the desperation of his lie. But still. “You worried everyone.”

      “I know.”

      “Sam’s pretty angry.”

      He sighed. “I figured he would be.” Then, nodding, he added, “But he’s here. That’s the important thing. And he’ll stay the summer. Just as the others will. They all gave me their word.”

      “What made you do it, Jeremiah? I mean, I know you miss them. But why now? Why this summer?”

      He smiled again, and this time she saw that he was enjoying being secretive. “Can’t tell you that yet, Maggie. I’m going to wait until all of my boys are home to spill that secret.”

      “You’re as stubborn as Sam,” she said with a slow shake of her head. Turning, she went back to the dresser and carefully stacked clean T-shirts in the top drawer.

      “You like him, don’t you?”

      She narrowed her eyes and glanced at him over her shoulder. “Jeremiah…”