good right jab,” he conceded.
“You’ll live.” She started past him, headed for the line of trees and the path beyond that would lead her back to the ranch house.
He stopped her with a hand on her arm. Instantly her skin sizzled and her blood bubbled in her veins. She yanked free of his grasp and took a step back just for good measure.
“Hey, hey,” he said, his voice soothing as he lifted both hands in mock surrender. “It’s okay. Relax.”
The quick jolt of adrenaline she’d felt at his unexpected touch was already dissipating when she glared at him. “Just… don’t grab me.”
“No problem.” he said, “Won’t happen again.”
She blew out a breath and willed herself to calm down. It wasn’t just the fact that he’d surprised her by taking hold of her arm—it was the sudden flash of heat that had dazzled up her arm only to ricochet throughout her body. She’d never felt that punch of awareness before and wasn’t sure she liked it much. Better to just get away from the man. Fast.
“It’s going to take me about ten minutes to walk back to the house,” she said when she was certain her voice wouldn’t quiver. “I suggest you use that time to get gone.”
He shook his head. “Can’t do it.”
“You’d better. Because the minute I get to a phone, I’ll be calling the police to report a trespasser.”
“You could,” he said and fell into step beside her as she once again started for the tree line. “But it wouldn’t do any good.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because,” he said, coming to a stop, “I went to high school with half the police force in town. And I think Jeremiah Lonergan might just object to you having me arrested.”
A sinking sensation opened in the pit of her stomach, but Maggie asked the question anyway. “Why would he object?”
“Because I’m Sam Lonergan, and Jeremiah’s my grandfather.”
Two
Everything else faded away but a rush of anger that nearly strangled Maggie. She’d known, of course, that all three of Jeremiah’s grandsons were arriving this summer, but she hadn’t expected one of them to sneak in under the cover of darkness and then turn out to be a Peeping Tom.
“If I’d known who you were,” Maggie snapped, “I would have hit you harder.”
“Lucky for me I kept quiet then.”
“How could you do this to him?” she demanded, planting both hands on her hips.
“Do what?”
“Stay away,” she snapped. “You—all of you. Not one of the three of you has so much as visited your grandfather in two years.”
“And you know this how?”
“Because I’ve been here,” she said, slapping one hand to her chest. “Me. I’ve been taking care of that sweet old man for two years and I don’t remember tripping over any of you in the house.”
“Sweet old man?” His laughter shot from his throat. “Jeremiah Lonergan is the most softhearted, crustiest old goat in the country.”
“He is not,” she shouted, infuriated by his amusement at the expense of an old man who had been even lonelier than she had when she first met him. “He’s sweet. And kind. And caring. And alone. His own family doesn’t care enough to come and see him. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Especially you. You’re a doctor. You should have come home before this to make sure he was all right. But no. You wait until he’s.” God. She couldn’t even bring herself to say the word dying.
She couldn’t think about losing Jeremiah. Couldn’t bear the thought of losing him and the home she’d come to love so much. And here stood a man who took all of that for granted. Who didn’t appreciate the love that was waiting for him. Who didn’t care enough about that sweet old man to even visit.
New fury pumped through her and she narrowed her eyes on the man who only moments before had stirred her blood into a simmering boil.
His laughter faded away and a scowl that was both fierce and irritated twisted his features. “Just who the hell are you anyway?”
“My name’s Maggie Collins,” she said, straightening up to her full five feet four inches. “And I’m your grandfather’s housekeeper.”
And she had that position because the “crusty old goat” had taken a chance on her when she’d needed it most. So she wasn’t about to stand by and let anyone, even his grandson, berate the old man she loved.
“Well, Maggie Collins,” he said through gritted teeth, “just because you’ve been taking care of Jeremiah’s house doesn’t mean you know squat about me or my family.”
She leaned in at him, not intimidated in the slightest. In the last two years she’d watched Jeremiah flip through old photo albums, stare at home movies, lose himself in the past because the grandsons he loved didn’t care enough to give him a present.
And it infuriated her that three grown men who had the home she’d always longed for didn’t seem to appreciate it.
“I know that though the man has three grandsons, he’s alone. I know that he had to take in a stranger to keep him company. I know that he looks at pictures of the three of you and his heart aches.” She poked him in the chest with her index finger. “I know that it took his being near death’s door—” her breath hitched and she hiccupped “—to get you all back here to see him this summer. I know that much.”
Sam shoved one hand through his long dark hair, looked away from her for a slow count of ten. Then, when he turned his gaze back to her, the anger had left him. His eyes were dark and shadowed.
“You’re right.”
She hadn’t expected that and it took her aback a little. Tipping her head to one side, she studied him. “Just like that? I’m right?”
“To a point,” he admitted and his voice dropped, wrapping the two of them in a kind of insular seclusion. “It’s… complicated,” he said finally.
So much for being surprised into feeling just a tiny bit of sympathy for his side of the story. Disgusted, she shook her head. “No, it’s not. He’s your grandfather. He loves you. And you ignore him.”
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re absolutely right.” She folded her arms across her chest, tapped her foot against the rocky ground and waited.
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t owe you an explanation, Maggie Collins, so don’t bother waiting for one.”
No, he didn’t, though she desperately wanted one. She couldn’t understand how anyone with a home, a family, could deliberately avoid them. “Fine. Maybe you don’t owe
