Cherished Beginnings (12 page)

Oh, the things she could tell him if she would! Maybe their relationship wasn't moving fast enough by the standards of most people, but Maura felt completely out of sync. And one thing she knew was that she didn't want to be a fast pickup at a wild party. She shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs, and her look of confusion and disorientation made Xan take a small step backward.

She avoided the peril of his eyes. "I want to go home now," she said firmly, surprising herself at the resoluteness of her tone.

"Well, lady, if you insist. But you're really missing something." His eyes glittered with humor, and she was sure he didn't mean that what she would be missing was the party.

He didn't stop her when she climbed into the minivan and slammed the door. He didn't say a word as she started the engine. And as she rolled away from the curb, trying to pull the world back into focus despite the crazy pounding of her heart, he only raised his hand in a silent salute of farewell.

It seemed like a very long drive back to Teoway Island, but the time gave Maura a chance to think. And what she thought was that her body could betray her if she let it. Not that it was bad for her body to feel so good—she had left that idea behind forever. But she couldn't get involved with Xan Copeland—
wouldn't
get involved with Xan Copeland. Her time and her energy were needed elsewhere.

* * *

After the night of the party, Xan faded from Maura's life, if not from her thoughts. She tried not to think about him or his consummate skill at lovemaking; indeed, going ahead with her plans to become a practicing midwife dominated her life. Converting the farmhouse to the McNeill Birth Center became Maura's focus during the next few weeks.

"This will be my waiting room," Maura told an interested Kathleen, who had finally, with reservations, come to look. "The former living room can function as an exercise and education room. And here"—Maura indicated a sunroom—"I'll install a playroom with toys for the young children accompanying their parents." Two first-floor bedrooms would be transformed into examining rooms. Outside, a sign that proclaimed McNeill Birth Center swung from a branch of one of the pecan trees.

Kathleen looked around at the sunny house. When Maura had first told her about it, she hadn't been able to imagine how an old farmhouse could become the facility Maura envisioned. She was happy to see that it had a light, airy look about it. Maura had already painted the waiting room a soft shade of yellow. Plants would hang in front of the long windows of what had formerly been a dining room.

"It's perfect," said Kathleen, her initial objections to the old farmhouse overcome. "Just perfect. In fact my friends on Teoway Island would love to come to someplace like this for prenatal care. Have the Shuffletown women shown any interest?"

"They're beginning to ask questions when they see me around town. I've put signs up at the local Laundromat and in gas stations along the highway. My telephone and internet will be installed tomorrow, and I'm going to move in here on Saturday."

Kathleen's face fell. "Really, Maura? I don't see why you have to live here. Wouldn't you be more comfortable staying with us on Teoway?"

"No, Kathleen," said Maura firmly. "We've been through all this before, and I haven't changed my mind. I'll be perfectly comfortable living upstairs."

"But it's so hot out here in the middle of these cotton fields, and it's so far from everything." Kathleen furrowed her forehead at her sister; why would Maura want to forsake the sumptuous comforts of Teoway for this isolated farmhouse?

"Thanks to the wonderful O'Malley Family Foundation, I can afford window air conditioners and they're arriving"—she consulted a list on a clipboard—"tomorrow. So neither summer heat nor flies nor South Carolina's fabled gnats will stray this midwife from her chosen work. Now"—she smiled encouragingly at Kathleen, who still looked skeptical—"did someone mention lunch?"

And so they left in Kathleen's new BMW for a celebration lunch at the outdoor restaurant in the elegant Marketplace Mall on Teoway Island, and Maura looked around her at the carefree and luxurious surroundings that were beautiful but meant absolutely nothing. After the convent, life here seemed trivial and the people self-centered compared to the nuns among whom she had lived before. Maura knew beyond a doubt that she was doing the right thing for herself and for the people of Shuffletown by moving to her farmhouse.

"Has there been any reaction from Xan Copeland?" Kathleen asked after the waitress had served them the house specialty, a concoction of scallops in white wine.

Maura shook her head. "Not a word," she said. "Nor do I expect any." Kathleen didn't know about Maura's disturbing encounter with Xan at Bonnie's party.

Kathleen nodded sagely. "It's probably just as well that you haven't heard from him."

"Mmm" was all Maura said, and she bent her head so that her hair fell over the side of her face, effectively blocking Kathleen's view of her facial expression. She didn't want to tell Kathleen, but she would have given almost anything to know what Xan Copeland thought about the determined way she was going ahead with her plan.

The day after her lunch with Kathleen, Maura was struggling to hang a pair of recalcitrant calico curtains in one of the examining rooms when she heard a timid knock at the door. Suppressing irritation over the interruption, Maura tossed the curtains aside and clambered down the ladder, and when she arrived at the door she was surprised to find a little bit of a young woman with dark golden skin who stood peering anxiously through the screen door.

"Come in," Maura called, wiping her dusty hands on her smock. She half expected it to be someone who had read one of her signs and was inquiring about prenatal care.

Her visitor broke into a big smile when she stepped inside the door, reminding Maura of nothing so much as one of those yellow smiley-face stickers, and she said, "Ms. McNeill, Dr. Copeland sent me."

Maura couldn't have been more surprised, and evidently her amazement showed on her face. It seemed, however, that there was only one polite thing to do. "Well, I—well, okay. Do come in and sit down." She led her guest through the maze of boxes and cleaning supplies to the waiting room and pulled up a straight chair—for the moment the only furnishings in the waiting room were four straight chairs and a card table—and wondered who on earth this woman was and why Xan had sent her. Surely he couldn't be sending Maura patients!

"He said you need an assistant."

"I am looking for one," said Maura.

"My name is Golden Prescott, and I'm a registered nurse. I applied at the Quinby Hospital, but they didn't have an opening. Dr. Copeland said maybe you could use me."

"Where did you work before?"

"I was working at a hospital in Knoxville, but my mother got sick and I had to come back home to take care of her. Since she died, I'm all alone, and I need work." Golden spoke softly, and Maura found herself warming to her quiet voice and gentle manner.

"Are you interested in becoming a midwife? I need an assistant. I'll train you, but it's the kind of work you have to love."

"I worked in the maternity ward, so I know enough about mothers and babies to get by. Once I delivered a baby that came early, before the doctor got there. It—it made me feel special."

Maura asked her a few more relevant questions about her training and experience, but it was Golden's eyes, so eager and sincere, that really did the convincing. "Do you know anything about hanging curtains?" Maura asked finally.

Golden stared at her for a moment, and then she began to laugh. "Yes, Ms. McNeill, I do. Sounds like you need some help."

Maura stood up. "Come back here and hand these curtains up to me, then, while we talk about what I expect from my assistant. And call me Maura, please."

The terms of Golden's employment were settled as they straightened out the tangle of curtains, and Golden agreed to report to work the next day. They shook hands on the deal, and after Golden left, Maura ironed another pair of curtains, ready to hang them upstairs. She couldn't believe that finding a promising assistant had been so easy.

And it probably wouldn't have been if Xan hadn't helped. She was amazed that he'd cared enough to send Golden to her. Her new assistant was a prize and had exactly the kind of experience that Maura was looking for.

Because she knew how Xan felt about her professional presence here, Maura realized that his sending Golden had been a generous gesture. Could there have been an ulterior motive? Probably not. It seemed more as if he'd seen the opportunity to do both women a favor and had done it. She'd have to drop Xan a nice note and thank him.

Her eyes fell on the newly installed telephone. She hadn't even tried it out yet. Well, why not? She'd call Xan and thank him that way. It would be easier and less time-consuming than writing a note. She hadn't kept his phone number in her cell phone and had to look it up on the internet. His receptionist answered, and when she gave her name, Maura was put on hold while the receptionist buzzed Xan.

He picked up the line immediately. "Maura?" he said, and he sounded as though he could hardly believe that it was she.

"Yes," she said. She didn't recall his voice having so much resonance. It was deeper than she remembered. She took a deep breath. "Thank you for sending Golden to me. She's perfect."

"I hoped she would be. It seemed to me that you might be right for each other."

"I, um, appreciate your thoughtfulness." Suddenly she felt tongue-tied at the thought of Xan on the other end of the line.

"I wanted to do something for you." His voice was tight, as though he were suppressing emotion. Maura didn't know what to say, but suddenly there was a lump in her throat.

"Look, Maura, maybe we could have dinner together tonight," he said, surprising her.

Her thoughts in a turmoil, she looked around at the jumble of boxes. Her mind felt in as much a jumble as her surroundings at the very thought of seeing Xan again. Anyway, she didn't have time to see him. Supplies had to be unpacked and floors had to be swept if she were ever going to get this clinic in order.

"Oh, Xan, I appreciate your doing something so nice for me. But I've got so much to do. I'm getting my clinic ready to open."

"I know," he said. "I've seen your signs. Can't you get away for a while?"

"Well, I really must finish up here. I'm moving my things in on Saturday. And I'd have to go back to Kathleen's and shower first. I don't know, Xan. It's not a good time."

"How about if I come over and help you with what you have to do? Then you'll finish early and we can play it by ear after that. If you don't feel like going out, I can toss a meal together at my place. Come on, Maura. How can you pass up an offer like that?"

She had to laugh at his coaxing. "I suppose I can't." She hesitated. She was tired of all the backbreaking work she'd been doing. She would enjoy being spirited away and forgetting everything for a while.

Her heart lifted at the thought of seeing Xan again. Impulsively pushing aside all the reasons she shouldn't, she said, "If you really mean it, I'll be looking for you. Are you any good at hanging curtains?"

"We'll find out. I'll see you around five-thirty." He sounded jubilant, and Maura found herself smiling into the phone. When she hung up, she was still smiling. She couldn't believe how much she was looking forward to seeing him.

She ironed more curtains and draperies, so by the time Xan arrived, she had several pairs ready to hang. She was standing at the ironing board finishing up the last panel when she saw his Lexus pull up in front.

Xan bounded up the porch steps and rapped on the door. She wasn't prepared. She'd thought she'd tie up her hair and splash cool water on her hot cheeks before he arrived. She lifted both hands to her face and pushed back damp tendrils that kept falling forward as she ironed.

"Hi," she said through the screen door. "Come in."

He opened the door and looked around in consternation. "You're right—you do need help," he said.

She smiled at him, pure radiance. He had forgotten that smile of hers, so brilliant and genuine. He hadn't, however, forgotten the shape of her or her unself-conscious sexuality, which had taken over his mind in the past few weeks so that he could hardly think about anything else. Her face was slightly flushed and shiny with perspiration from the heat of the iron. He thought she was beautiful.

"I'd like to hang these curtains before I leave," she told him. "They belong upstairs."

"No problem," he said. He threaded his way through the clutter of boxes and looked around. "Is this your waiting room?"

"Yes," she said. She hadn't expected him to be curious about her clinic. She'd thought he'd skirt around the subject. Although, with everything still such a mess, it was a difficult subject to ignore.

He walked across the hall to the former living room. It was a big, wide room with a polished hardwood floor. Bookshelves held various pamphlets that Maura would hand out to her patients, but there was no furniture because she would teach exercise and yoga classes there. When necessary for group meetings, she would set up folding chairs for her patients.

"What's this room?" he wanted to know.

"Education and exercise room," she told him, unplugging the iron.

He turned around, lifting his eyebrows. "Exercise? What kind of exercise?"