Ryan's Place - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,15

the room to where Ryan was serving slices of pumpkin pie to a very pregnant woman and her two dark-haired children. The look on his face was impossible to interpret, but she tried nonetheless. Dismay and sorrow seemed to mingle with friendly concern. She had the sense that he was talking to this woman but seeing something else entirely, something from his own past, perhaps.

Drawn by the scene, she found an excuse to head for the kitchen, slipping in long enough to grab several pies. When she emerged, she was close enough to hear Ryan murmuring encouraging words to the woman. He seemed to be holding out the promise of a job to help her family get back on its feet. A few minutes later he slipped the husband some money and told him to make sure his wife saw a doctor.

“Come to the pub tomorrow,” he told the man. “We’ll work out your hours then.”

The man beamed at him. “Gracias, señor. Thank you. Rosita and I will be there. We are very hard workers. You’ll see. You will never have reason to regret giving us this chance.”

Ryan sighed as the man went to join his wife. Maggie stepped up behind him.

“That was very nice, what you did just then,” she said.

Ryan whirled around, almost dropping the plate he was holding. “Where did you come from?”

“I’ve been here for hours.”

He gave her a sour look. “Believe me, I’m well aware of that. I’ve had to field more than one question about the red-haired angel with the ready smile. You’ve drawn more attention around here today than the turkey.” He didn’t sound especially pleased about it. “I was referring to your popping up just now. Were you eavesdropping on a private conversation?”

“Nope, just bringing out more pies,” she said, holding up the armload she’d retrieved from the kitchen. “I couldn’t help overhearing what you were saying. You’re hiring them?”

He shrugged as if it were nothing. “They need work. I can take on a couple of extra people at this time of year. It’s no big deal.”

“I’m sure it is to them.” Then, to avoid prolonging a topic that obviously made him uncomfortable, she asked, “I understand you’re responsible for providing all this food every year. It’s very generous of you.”

“I have a restaurant. Rory likes to cook for people who appreciate a fine meal,” he said. “Why not help out a good cause?”

Once again he’d dismissed his good deed. She probably should have been impressed by his humility, but she found it oddly worrisome, instead. “Why aren’t you comfortable accepting a compliment?” she asked.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t deserve it,” he said. “I wasn’t the one basting turkeys and pouring pumpkin custard into pie shells all night long. Rory did that, as he has ever since he came to work for me.”

“But I imagine you paid for the ingredients and for Rory’s time,” she countered.

“For the ingredients, yes, but not for Rory’s time. He knows, as I do, what it’s like to do without on a holiday. We try to make sure that at least some people don’t have to know that feeling.”

She studied him intently. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Not that it matters, but ever since I opened the pub. And that’s enough of that,” he said, closing the door on the topic. “I’m sure Father Francis is grateful to you and your family for coming to help out today.”

“It’s been…” She searched for the right word. While helping out had been rewarding, it was what she’d discovered about Ryan Devaney that had been truly important to her. “It’s been enlightening.”

His gaze narrowed at her comment. “I’m glad we’ve been able to provide a bit of entertainment for your holiday,” he said with a touch of bitterness. “Excuse me. I have things to do.”

He brushed past her, but Maggie reached for his arm. When she touched him, she felt the muscle jerk beneath her fingers. Only when he turned to face her did she speak. “You know that I did not mean that to be insulting,” she said quietly. “Who did this to you? Who made you distrust everyone the way you do?”

Ryan hesitated, his expression still angry. “It’s a long story, and today’s not the time,” he said finally, his voice tight.

Maggie’s gaze was unrelenting. “Will there be a time?”

His gaze locked with hers, and for the longest time she thought he was going to say no, but eventually he sighed heavily.

“I imagine you’ll insist on it,”

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