Free Ryan's Place by Sherryl Woods Page A

about what you said. And I’m grateful for whatever you can do.”
    “Let’s pray I’ll be back to you with some news in a day or two. In the meantime, you make the arrangements for Lamar’s surgery. You won’t have any problem at the hospital.”
    “But they said—”
    He met her gaze. “Trust me. There won’t be a problem.”
    A relieved smile spread across her face. “Mr. Devaney, I don’t know how to thank you.”
    “There’s no need,” he insisted, casting a look toward the boy who was giggling softly at something Father Francis had said. “Let’s just make sure Lamar is back on his feet soon. I’m looking forward to going to that ball game with him.”
    Before he knew it, he was enveloped in a fierce hug.
    “You’ll be in my prayers every night of my life,” she told him.
    “I’d return the favor, but I think you’ll have better luck letting Father Francis do the honors,” he said wryly. “I’ve got to get back to work now, but I’ll be in touch. You can count on it.”
    Ryan slipped out of the shelter before Father Francis could waylay him with some other mission of mercy. Outside, he shivered, though it was less a reaction to the temperature than to the sad plight of the Monroe family.
    He was still thinking about them when he walked into the pub and headed for the bar, where Maureen had been filling in while he was gone.
    “Everything okay?” she asked, regarding him with concern.
    “It will be,” he said with grim determination. “Has Jack Reilly been in tonight?”
    “Haven’t seen him,” she said. “But there is a familiar face in that booth by the stage.”
    “Oh?” he said, puzzled by the mysterious glint of amusement in her eyes. One glance at the booth was explanation enough. Maggie was seated there with her parents. They each had the night’s fish-and-chips special and a pint of ale. He glanced at Maureen. “Cover for me a few more minutes?”
    “Of course,” she said at once.
    He walked across the room, greeting several regulars along the way, then paused beside Maggie. “Good evening. Welcome to Ryan’s Place,” he said, his gaze directed first at Nell O’Brien, then at her husband. He nodded at Maggie.
    “Ryan, I love your pub,” Nell said with enthusiasm. “It reminds me of a place in Dublin that Garrett and I visited on our honeymoon.”
    “The Swan,” Garrett said at once. He regarded his wife with a warm expression. “I believe we can credit a night there for our firstborn son.”
    Nell blushed. “Garrett O’Brien, what a thing to be saying in front of a stranger.”
    “Ryan’s no stranger. He’s a friend of our Maggie’s. Isn’t that right, Maggie, me girl?”
    Maggie grinned at her father. “He still might prefer not to know all the intimate details of John’s conception.”
    Ryan chuckled. “Actually I’m fascinated,” he said, just to keep the color high in her cheeks. “And what about Maggie’s? Is there a story behind that, as well?”
    Maggie shot a warning look at her father. “If you tell it, I will never forgive you.”
    “Now I really am intrigued,” Ryan said. “Make room, Maggie.” He settled in the booth beside her, thigh-to-thigh, in a way that had his blood heating. “Come on, Mr. O’Brien. Tell the story.”
    Garrett O’Brien opened his mouth, then grunted, apparently when Maggie’s foot made contact with his shin. “Sorry, lad. I’ve been persuaded to keep silent. Even in today’s tell-all society, I imagine there are some things that are best kept private.”
    Ryan turned to Maggie. “I suppose I’ll just have to pester you until you tell all,” he said. “Right now, though, I’d better get behind the bar before Maureen rebels.” And before he gave in to the urge to spend the entire evening right here with Maggie so close he could feel her breath on his cheek when she spoke.
    “Join us again if you can spare the time,” Nell invited.
    “I’ll do that,” Ryan promised, casting a last, lingering