The Devaney Brothers: Michael and Patrick: Michael's Discovery
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“What happened?” she asked.
He resigned himself to staying in the disconcerting moment. “When?”
“When you were hurt.”
“I walked into a trap,” he said, still filled with self-loathing at the stupidity of it. He should have known what was going on. He should never have trusted the intelligence report that the caves had been cleared of terrorists. He’d always relied on his own surveillance, his own instincts, but this one time he’d gotten anxious, a little careless. It was a bitter lesson that would have served him well in the future...if only he had one.
“Where were you?”
Too many years of keeping silent about his work kept him cautious even now. “I can’t say.”
“But you were a Navy SEAL, right? So I can assume that this had something to do with the war on terrorism?”
“You can assume anything you want to assume.”
Her fingers began to massage a little deeper, working muscles too long unused. Knots of tension in his legs seemed to ease, at least as long as she didn’t venture too close to the scars. That area was still amazingly tender. He yelped the first time she touched the bullet’s exit wound on the back of his thigh.
“Sorry.”
“I’ll survive.”
“I’m sure of that,” she agreed. “But I’ll be more careful around the scars. I can’t ignore them, though, because that skin’s going to need to be stretched.”
“Whatever you say.”
She patted his leg. “That’s it for today, then.”
He glanced up and regarded her with surprise. “You’re finished?”
“It’s been nearly an hour, and I have another appointment across town.”
“At this rate, we’re not going to make much progress,” he said, suddenly disgruntled by the too-quick end of the session and the complete lack of anything remotely like measurable improvement. “I thought you were going to work my butt off, or am I misquoting you?”
“Nope, that’s what I said, and that day will come. I’ve got you scheduled for two hours, day after tomorrow. We’ll start the exercises then.” She met his gaze. “That is, if I passed today’s probation.”
He ought to tell her to get the hell out and stay away, but he couldn’t seem to make himself do it. He was too afraid of the disappointment or disdain he’d see in her eyes. Either one would make him feel like a jerk. Besides, a part of him couldn’t help clinging to the possibility that she was his best hope for getting back on his feet again.
He met her gaze. Now that he was willing to give therapy a try, he wanted to see progress. He wasn’t scared of a little pain or hard work. In fact, he looked forward to it. “Make it three hours, day after tomorrow.”
“You’re not ready for three hours,” she said flatly.
He scowled at her reaction. “Let me be the judge of what I can handle. I’ve gone through training so rigorous, it would make your therapy seem like child’s play.”
“Have you done it since having several bones shattered, to say nothing of going through—what was it—three surgeries?” she inquired tartly.
The woman was tough as nails. It was a trait he couldn’t help admiring. “Okay, you made your point. Two hours, but if I’m up to it, we’ll go to three the next time,” he bargained. “Is it a deal?”
Kelly looked for a moment as if she might argue. Finally she held out her hand. “Deal.”
Michael took her hand in his and instantly regretted it. It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed to ignore the way her hands had moved over his body earlier. Now, with something as simple as a handshake, he was once more thoroughly aware of her as a desirable woman.
Her skin was amazingly soft, her grip strong. A faint hint of the aromatic oil she’d used for the massage lingered in the air. It wasn’t the least bit feminine-quite the opposite, in fact—but it suddenly turned erotic. If he’d been another kind of man in a different situation, he would have brought her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. Instead, he released her hand as if he’d been burned.
A faint flicker of surprise flashed across her face, followed almost instantly by understanding. To his disgust she’d apparently guessed that for one brief second he’d let himself cross some sort of line.
“Is there anything I can do for you before I go?” she asked.
A thousand and one wicked possibilities slammed through him. “Not a thing,” he said tightly.
“Are you sure?”
“I thought you were in a hurry.”
“I can spare five minutes,” she said, regarding him with amusement. “I could fix you some breakfast if you haven’t had any.”
Forget breakfast, and five minutes wouldn’t be nearly long enough to act on a single one of those wicked possibilities, Michael thought wryly. He wondered what she would do, though, if he suggested, say, a kiss.
It wasn’t propriety or the thought of Bryan pounding him to a pulp that stopped him. It was the very distinct likelihood that it would backfire on him. If he was already having totally inappropriate thoughts about Kelly after one very brief therapy session, a kiss could very well send him over the edge. He might start obsessing about the way she’d feel in his arms. He might forget all about the reason she was there...to help him get back on his feet, not to help him prove he was still first and foremost a man.
Michael sighed heavily, determined to ignore the tantalizing sparks sizzling in the air. “I’ll see you day after tomorrow.”
She almost looked disappointed. “Whatever you say.”
To keep himself from doing anything foolish, he deliberately turned his wheelchair in the direction of the kitchen, putting his back to her. “Lock the door on your way out,” he said.
He expected to hear the door open and close, the lock click into place. Instead, there was nothing, not even a whisper of movement.
“What are you going to do with the rest of your day?” she asked finally.
“Planning my activities is not part of your job,” he retorted more sharply than necessary.
“I was asking, not planning,” she responded, evidently undaunted by his tone. “I hate to think of you being shut away in here all alone.”
“You might not think my company has much to recommend it,” he said. “But I’m content with it.”
“Have you called the Havilceks and told them you’re back? Have you even told them what happened to you?”
Back still to Kelly, Michael frowned at the question. He’d made one call to them from San Diego to let them know he’d been injured, but that he was recuperating. To his astonishment, Mrs. Havilcek had wanted to fly out right away, but he’d explained about Ryan and Sean being there.
“Oh, Michael, that’s wonderful,” she’d said with what sounded like total sincerity. “I won’t come now, then, but you call me if you need me. I can be there the next day.”
The memory of that promise had been enough to warm him whenever loneliness had crept in after Ryan and Sean had headed back East. It was enough to know that Mrs. Havilcek would come if called, and amazing to think that after all the years she’d cared for and loved him, that he’d even doubted for a minute that she would.
“Have you gotten in touch with them?” Kelly prodded.
“Not since I got to Boston,” he admitted.
She regarded him incredulously. “Why on earth not?”
He wasn’t sure he could explain it. He loved his foster family. The Havilceks had been great parents to him. And he couldn’t have been any closer to the girls if they had been his real big sisters. But when Ryan and Sean had turned up, he’d felt almost disloyal to the Havilceks, as if having feelings for his biological brothers was some sort of betrayal of all his foster family had done for him. He was still wrestling with how to handle keeping all of them in their rightful place in his life, a life that had changed dramatically since he’d last seen them.
“I’ll call them,” he told Kelly, “once things are a little more settled.”
“You mean after you’re back on your feet? Don’t you want them to see you when you’re not a hundred percent? Do you think they’d care about that?” she demanded indignantly.
He found the suggestion that he was acting out of misplaced pride vaguely insulting. “No, of course not. It’s not about that at all.”
“What then?”
He regarded her with a wry expression. “You know, Kelly, maybe there’s something we ought to get straight. You’re here to help me walk again. Leave the rest of my life to me.”
“I would, if you weren’t so obviously dead set on wasting it,” she shot back. “But that’s okay. I’ll drop it for now.”
“For good,” he countered.
She flashed him a brilliant smile. “Sorry. I can’t promise that.”
Before he could threaten to fire her if she insisted on meddling in things that were none of her concern, she was out the door. The lock clicked softly into place, just as he’d requested.
Michael should have felt relieved to have her gone, relieved to be alone with hours stretching out ahead of him to do whatever struck his fancy, at least given the limits of his mobility.
Instead, all he felt was regret.
3
If Michael had been anticipating a lonely, boring day to himself after Kelly’s departure, he should have known better. Despite his admonition to Ryan that he was to be no one’s project, his brothers and sisters-in-law were apparently determined that he not have a single minute to himself to sit and brood. In fact, by the end of the day he wouldn’t have been surprised to discover a schedule of their assigned comings and goings posted outside his door.
Maggie was first on the scene, with Caitlyn in tow. His niece came in dragging a purple suitcase on wheels, which he discovered was filled with her favorite picture books and a doll that was apparently capable of saying all the words Caitlyn had yet to master. She shoved the doll in his arms, then climbed up beside him on the sofa, put a book in his lap and regarded him expectantly.
“She wants you to read to her,” Maggie said, as if that hadn’t been perfectly obvious, even to a novice uncle like him.
Michael studied the thick board book with its brightly colored pictures, started to flip it open to the first page, only to have Caitlyn very firmly turn it back to the cover and point emphatically. He gathered he was supposed to begin with the title.
“The Runaway Bunny,” he began.
Caitlyn nodded happily, then snuggled closer.
Michael glanced in Maggie’s direction, caught her satisfied smile and gave in to the inevitable. He discovered that reading to a one-year-old might not involve complex plots, but it had its own rewards. Caitlyn was a very appreciative audience, clapping her little hands together with enthusiasm and giggling merrily.
Even so, after five books, he was more than ready for a break. He uttered a sigh of relief when Maggie announced that lunch was ready. He prayed it would be accompanied by a good stiff drink, but since he hadn’t found a drop of liquor in his cabinets after Maggie had stocked them, he wasn’t holding out much hope.
“Shall I bring lunch in there?” she asked.
“Nope. I’ll come to the kitchen,” he responded. He glanced at Caitlyn. “How about it? Want to hitch a ride with Uncle Mike?”
She nodded happily and held out her arms.
“Whoa, sweet pea. Let me get settled first.” He struggled into the wheelchair, then lifted her to his lap and wheeled into the kitchen, where Maggie was pointedly ignoring the fact that it had taken a much longer time for them to get there than it would have taken for her to bring the lunch into the living room to him and Caitlyn.
“How did your first therapy session go?” she asked as she served the thick sandwiches and potato salad she’d prepared.
“Why am I not surprised that you knew it was this morning?” he inquired dryly. “And why am I stunned that it took you this long to get around to asking about it?”
Maggie gave him an irrepressible smile. “I’m learning restraint.”
Michael laughed. “How’s it going?”
“Pretty well today, apparently.” Her expression sobered. “So, how did it go? You didn’t scare Kelly off, did you? She seemed like a nice young woman when she came by the pub to pick up a key to this place from Ryan.”
“About that,” he began, intending to explain that his key wasn’t to be handed out at random to anyone who asked or professed a need for a copy.
Maggie held up a silencing hand. “I know. I told Ryan he should have consulted with you first, but he was afraid she’d show up for the consultation and you wouldn’t let her in. He figured the key would assure that you’d see her at least once.” She met his gaze. “You can always ask her to give it back. Did you?”
“No,” he admitted, not entirely sure why he hadn’t. Maybe it was best not to examine his reasons.
Maggie seemed to be struggling with a grin. “I see. Then things have gone okay with Kelly?”
He was not about to admit that Kelly had actually left today before he was ready for her to go. Maggie would clearly make way too much of that, though whether she’d deduce it was enthusiasm for therapy or for the therapist was a toss-up.
“She’ll be back day after tomorrow,” he conceded grudgingly, and let it go at that.
“Terrific.”
He studied his sister-in-law intently. “So, Maggie, who has the afternoon shift?”
She regarded him blankly. “Excuse me?”
“Is Sean coming by to take over when you take the peanut here home for her nap? Or maybe his wife? Then, again, Deanna has already called in today, so maybe it’s Ryan’s turn.”
Color bloomed in Maggie’s cheeks.
Michael sighed. “I thought so. You all divvied up the assignment so I wouldn’t be alone for more than an hour or so at a time, didn’t you? I’m amazed nobody took the night shift, or is somebody that I don’t know about sitting in the hallway from midnight to seven in the morning?”
Maggie’s chin rose, eyes flashing. “Your brothers are concerned about you. It’s perfectly natural.”
“Where was that concern twenty years ago? Or even five years ago?” he demanded heatedly. “Hovering now won’t make up for all those years they didn’t do a damn thing to find me.”
Maggie regarded him in silence.
“No answer for that?” he pushed, even though he knew he was being totally unreasonable by taking years of pent-up anger out on her. “I didn’t think so.”
Before he could wheel himself away from the table, Maggie rested her hand on his. “They were hurt, too, you know.”
“Not by me, dammit!”
“No, of course not. But you were all kids,” she reminded him with gentle censure. “None of you could have been expected to fight the system to find your way back to the others.”
“We’ve all been adults for a long time now,” he retorted.
She regarded him with an unflinching stare. “Then I’ll ask you this—did you look for Ryan or Sean?”
Michael’s heart throbbed dully as he thought of how hard he’d worked to block out all memories of his big brothers. He’d substituted the loving Havilceks for his family. They would never have turned their backs on one of their kids, not even him, though he’d spent a lot of years with his heart in his throat expecting the worst.
“No,” he admitted, “but—”
“Can’t you let it be enough that your brothers are back in your life now? We’re family, Michael. It may be late, but let’s not waste any more time by tossing around a lot of useless recriminations.”
Gazing into his sister-in-law’s troubled green eyes, Michael fought off the desire to prolong the argument. Maggie was right. There was nothing to be gained by holding grudges, and maybe quite a lot to be gained by forgiveness.
“Okay, then,” he said at last. “I’ll work on putting aside the past, if you’ll do something for me in return.”
“Anything,” she agreed readily.
“Can the hovering,” he said bluntly. “I have to learn to do things for myself. And if there’s something I can’t manage, I’ll call and ask for help.”
She studied him skeptically. “You promise that you won’t shut us out completely?”
He grinned at that. “As if you’d let me. No, Maggie, I won’t shut any of you out. You’re welcome here anytime...just not all the time.”
She laughed. “Okay, I get it. I’ll speak to Ryan, Sean and Deanna.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Of course, that puts you in my debt, at least a little, doesn’t it?”
He eyed her warily. “A little, I suppose. Why?”
“Will you come to the pub on Friday night? There will be Irish music, and the special’s fish and chips. Ryan can come by to pick you up.”
Michael was surprised to find that the prospect held some appeal. “You’re a tough negotiator, Maggie Devaney.”
“I know,” she said with unmistakable pride. “I had to be to win your brother’s heart. You may find this hard to believe, but he was even less trusting than you are.”
“You’re right. I do find that hard to believe.”
“Well, it’s true.” She smiled at him. “Will you come?”
“I’ll come,” he agreed. “But I’ll get there on my own.”
She opened her mouth, but he cut her off before she could protest. “If I can’t manage it, I’ll call.”
“Fair enough, then. I’ll do these dishes and get out of your hair.”
Michael glanced at his niece and saw that she was nodding off in her booster seat at the table. “I think maybe you ought to get Caitlyn home for her nap, instead. I can clear things away in here.”
“But—”
He deliberately scowled at her. “Go, Maggie, before you undo all the warm and fuzzy feelings I’m developing toward you.”
She laughed at that, picked up her daughter, then bent and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad to have you as part of our family. You’ll get to meet the rest of the O’Briens on Friday night. You might want to brace yourself. My family can be a little overwhelming. Ryan and I have been married for nearly two years now, and they still make him nervous.”
“Now there’s a fine recommendation,” Michael responded dryly. “I’m really looking forward to Friday night, after that.”
“The music will compensate for the chaos. I promise.”
Michael believed her, which was a bit of a miracle in and of itself. Other than the men on his SEAL team, he’d long ago lost his faith in promises.
* * *
Kelly wasn’t sure what to expect when she arrived for her second therapy session with Michael. Even though during her last visit he’d agreed to continue with his rehabilitation, he wouldn’t be the first patient to have a change of heart between sessions, especially if he’d spent the intervening hours brooding.
She rang the bell at his apartment promptly at 10:00 a.m., then waited to see what sort of greeting she got. She counted it a positive sign when nothing crashed against the door. Nor were there any cries of pain from inside. So far, it was going better than either of her earlier visits.
When another full minute had passed, she rang the bell again. “Michael, it’s me. Is everything okay? Should I come on in?”
More silence. She frowned at the door. Had he bailed on her, after all? Or was he inside, simply ignoring her, hoping she would go away? She was about to put her key in the lock, when the front door of the building crashed open. Kelly whirled around and found herself staring straight into Michael’s very blue eyes.
“Sorry,” he said as he awkwardly tried to manipulate the chair into the foyer. “I had to go out. I thought I’d be back before you got here, but everything took longer than I expected.”
Kelly stared at him. “You went out?” she said blankly. Where? How? She resisted the urge to ask questions he would no doubt find intrusive, if not downright insulting.
“To the store,” he said, holding up two small plastic bags crammed with groceries. He looked astonishingly pleased with himself.
“How did you manage?” she asked. “Did you call a taxi?”
“Of course not. The store’s only a few blocks away.”
Her incredulity grew. “You went in your wheelchair?”
“I sure as hell didn’t walk,” he retorted, his good mood evaporating.
Kelly immediately felt guilty for spoiling his moment of triumph. “Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s terrific that you were able to manage on your own.”
His scowl stayed firmly in place. “You’re not out of a job just yet, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
“No, of course not. You caught me off guard, that’s all.” She gestured toward the apartment. “And I was worried when you didn’t answer the door.”
“Well, I’m here now, and that clock of yours is no doubt ticking, so let’s get started.”
Filled with regret about the tension she’d managed to cause, she merely nodded and stepped aside. “Go on in. I’ll be right behind you.”
He wheeled past without comment. Kelly leaned against the wall for a second and drew in a deep breath. Why was it that she couldn’t manage to have one single encounter with this man without some sort of misunderstanding? She’d never had problems making herself clear before, but Michael managed to keep her off-kilter and tongue-tied. When she finally did speak, everything kept coming out wrong. Sure, he was understandably prickly, but she seemed to have a special knack for setting him off.
Determined not to let it happen again, she squared her shoulders and carried her equipment inside. While Michael was putting his groceries away, she got set up.
A few minutes later he came into the living room wearing a pair of boxers, a T-shirt and a frown. He gestured toward the massage table.
“Are we starting with that again?”
Kelly nodded.
He struggled awkwardly from the chair to the table, then stretched out facedown. Kelly put some of her aromatic oil on his injured leg and began to massage, trying to ignore the body heat the man put out. If she were ever stranded outdoors in a blizzard, Michael was definitely the man she’d want with her. He emitted heat like a blast furnace.
His muscles were also knotted with tension, probably due in part to her. She smoothed her hands over his powerful thigh and down the length of his calf until she finally felt the tension begin to ease.
The massage probably went on longer than necessary because she enjoyed touching him so much, enjoyed the fact that for once they weren’t at odds, enjoyed even more the soft sigh of pleasure that eased through him.
It was the sigh, though, that snapped her back to reality and reminded her that the massage was not about her enjoyment, or even his. It was therapy, a prelude to some of the stretching exercises she’d scheduled for today. Kelly had a feeling that one reason she’d put off getting to those was the knowledge that Michael was going to be indignant that she wasn’t assigning him anything more strenuous.
“Okay, that’s it,” she forced herself to say finally.
Michael sat up slowly and regarded her with confusion. “For the day? We’re finished?”
She smiled at his obvious dismay. “Not just yet. I have some stretching exercises for you to try. It’ll help with getting those torn muscles and ligaments back into shape.”
As she’d expected, he frowned.
“Stretching?” he asked disdainfully. “Come on, Kelly, can’t we move beyond that?”
She regarded him evenly. “You straighten that injured leg out and do ten leg lifts and we’ll reevaluate my plan.”
“Piece of cake,” he boasted.
“Okay, then, let’s see it,” she said, her arms folded across her chest as she stood back and waited.
She wasn’t the least bit surprised when he couldn’t get his leg to straighten completely. Nor when his first attempt to lift it in the air had sweat beading on his brow. He was wincing in obvious pain as he finally managed to raise the leg a scant three or four inches.
“Okay, you win,” he grumbled, scowling fiercely. “But nobody likes a know-it-all woman, you know.”
“I don’t need you to like me,” she said cheerfully. “I just need you to trust me.”
“Sweetheart, there are very few people on earth I trust,” he said bitterly. “I don’t know you well enough for you to make the cut.”
The comment tore straight through her, but she forced herself not to let it show. “Then maybe we need to do something to change that.”