Chapter Eight #2
again. It had been almost 101 degrees then and if anything, he looked hotter and more uncomfortable now.
Quinn had been vocal about not wanting either of them around; he simply preferred to be left alone. A doctor’s appointment
had been scheduled for the morning at a Saturday clinic and there was nothing to do but wait out the long night.
Because Jill remained anxious, Meggie spent the night at Quinn’s. She’d let him assume she’d returned to her own apartment.
If he’d known, she was sure his disapproval would have been vocal and heated. At Jill’s insistence she slept in the girl’s
room, while Jill slept on the sofa.
Restless and concerned about Quinn herself, Meggie couldn’t sleep. A clock from the living room chimed the hours as she lay
in the dark room. A thin wall was all that separated her from Quinn. If she lay completely still, she was sure she could hear
his breathing. The thought was ridiculous, but somehow it comforted Meggie.
About two o’clock, she got up to use the bathroom. A quick check showed that Jill was sleeping soundly, arms and legs flung
over the sofa, her blonde head supported by two pillows that were propped against the armrest.
Quinn’s door was slightly ajar and Meggie hesitated before entering. The need to assure herself he was resting comfortably
overcame caution. Silently she slipped inside his room.
Moon shadows from the open drapes danced across the walls, almost like scenes from a silent movie. The sleeping figure in
the bed lay motionless, completely still. Meggie’s heart came to her throat at the surge of love she felt for this man. On
the opposite side of the room was a desk and chair. She pulled out the chair and sat, watching him, yearning to reach out
to touch him, comfort him, love him. Emotions she barely knew existed bubbled to the surface of her being. Never had she felt
more a woman, with a woman’s emotions, than she did at this moment.
Meggie didn’t know how long she sat there watching him sleep. Gradually the dictates of her body took control and her eyelids
lowered bit by bit until she fell asleep, slouched in the chair.
“Meggie.” Her name was whispered in a coarse, uneven voice.
Flexing the muscles of one shoulder and then the other out of the cramped position, she straightened, her eyes meeting Quinn’s.
“What are you doing here?” he questioned gruffly in the same hoarse whisper.
Meggie smiled uncomfortably, her eyes avoiding his. A limp hand swung out, a finger pointing toward the room beside his. “I
decided to stay overnight. Jill was worried and I knew I’d be up half the time wondering about you myself, so here I am.”
She ended in a weak voice.
“You’d probably be a whole lot more comfortable sleeping in Jill’s bed, or in your own for that matter.” He regarded her sharply,
his gaze narrowing. Pausing, he wearily rubbed a hand across his face. “This is crazy,” he said, his tone softening. “You’re
going to make yourself sick again, over me. It’s stupid.”
The look of tender concern in his eyes created the most wonderful disturbance inside her. “I imagine I’m feeling very much
the way you did when I was sick. I need to be here for my own peace of mind. Don’t deny me that, Quinn.”
He held his hand out to her. Meggie rose, her knees weak under her, but she wasn’t sure it was the position she’d fallen asleep
in, or the look he was giving her. Taking his hand between her own, she hugged it to her breast and slumped to the floor beside
the bed.
“Seeing you there when I woke did something to me,” he admitted grudgingly.
Meggie nodded, remembering how she felt the night she’d been so ill and woke to discover Quinn was in the bedroom with her.
It had been the night she realized the depth of her love for him.
Tenderly she brought his hand to her mouth and very gently kissed the roughened knuckles. His hand opened, exploring her cheek.
An encompassing warmth spread over her.
“Oh, Meggie,” he groaned, “it’s times like these that I can’t think of anything but the feel of you in my arms.” His voice
was husky in the darkness. Entwining his fingers in her hair he gently massaged the side of her neck. “When I first saw you,
I was sure you were awake. I waited for you to notice me, then I thought you must be praying. There was such a look of total
peace about you. I’m sorry for what I said earlier about your praying. I was in pain and I lashed out at you and Jill.”
With all the love in her heart shining from her eyes she met his gaze. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. Your faith is very much a part of you and I was wrong to have made a joke of your belief in the power of
prayer.” He dismissed her easy acceptance of his apology. The look of intensity narrowed the dark eyes. “You did pray for
me, didn’t you, Meggie?”
She nodded, taking his hand between hers again. She leaned forward, their faces almost touching in the small space that separated
them. He was lying on the bed, she sitting on the floor, her legs tucked beneath her under the long nylon gown.
“I’ve wondered how people pray,” he said with an absent look. “I know prayer is simply talking to God, but it seems such a
waste of valuable time. There’s never been anything important enough for me to want to pray about.”
“I think you view a man praying as a sign of weakness,” she interrupted. “Prayer is a sign of strength. I know that’s hard
to understand. But I believe you’ve prayed; you just weren’t aware that was what you were doing.”
“Meggie.” An underlying thread of amusement laced his words. “If I’d prayed, don’t you think I’d know it?”
Lowering her eyes, she swallowed at the tightness building in her throat. How could they be so close to one another, not just
the physical proximity, but an inner communication that existed between them almost from the beginning? Yet at the same time
they were light years apart. There would have to be a point in his life when he recognized the need to pray, his need for
God.
Not long after their talk, Quinn fell into a restless slumber, his hand continuing to hold hers. Eventually the hold slackened
and Meggie slipped her slim fingers from his grip. For several minutes afterwards she sat with him, silently picturing Christ’s
love surrounding them both. A prayer rose automatically to her lips and she murmured it with all the intensity of her love
for the sleeping man.
Just as she was about to drop off, Quinn stirred and Meggie shook herself awake. Sore muscles and tired joints would remind
her she’d spent the night on a wooden chair and a hard floor if she didn’t move. Reluctantly she returned to Jill’s bedroom
and fell almost immediately into a comfortable and deep sleep.
“Yes, it’s Sunday. Do you think I could go to church with you?” Jill’s voice interrupted Meggie’s thoughts, forcing her into
the present. “I have a Bible now,” the girl added quickly. “Hariette gave it to me. It’s really nice. Want to see?”
“Sure.” Meggie nodded, but her attention was riveted on the figure emerging from the hallway.
“What’s this about church?” Quinn questioned, his voice tight with impatience, heavy with the connotation that Meggie was
going against his wishes for Jill by deliberately inviting her to church.
“I thought you were asleep, Dad,” Jill inserted. “I didn’t think you’d miss me, but if you’re up I’ll stay and take care of
you while Meggie goes. I don’t mind.”
Quinn ignored his daughter; instead, his attention rested heavily on Meggie. “I thought we had an understanding?” he questioned
with a challenging lift of an arched brow.
Jill glanced anxiously from one to the other. “Remember when we went out to dinner with Meggie, Dad? You said that you thought
it might be a good idea if I started attending Sunday school and I said church was a crazy place.” Jill laughed. “Since Meggie
and I had our talk, I’ve made some new friends at school. They both attend church. I thought I might like to go sometime.
I mean, it can’t hurt me, can it?”
“I suppose not,” he replied stiffly. “Go ahead and go, the both of you. I could use some peace and quiet for once.”
“I didn’t realize you found my presence so objectionable,” Meggie returned flippantly. “Come on, Jill.” She made a hurried
movement for the door.
“Meggie,” the gruff voice stopped her. She tensed as she turned toward him. His dark eyes staring back at her were unfathomable
pools she would never understand. “Jill’s grandmother is coming by about twelve-thirty to pick her up. Will you be back by
then?”
“I’ll make a point of it,” she said with a straight back, her eyes glinting with barely restrained aggression. He seemed surprised
at the angry flecks in her dark eyes. To her chagrin, her irritation seemed to amuse him and he tried, unsuccessfully, to
contain a smile.
“I don’t see what you find so all-fired funny, Quinn Donnelley,” she murmured between clenched teeth.
“Maybe I should change my clothes,” Jill interrupted, obviously unaware of the surly undertones passing between her father
and Meggie.
“Go ahead,” Quinn said without looking at Jill.
“You look fine just the way you are,” Meggie contradicted.
“Better not change if there isn’t time,” Quinn advised. “There’s nothing worse than a church full of people watching you make
a grand entrance because you’re late. And Meggie,” he continued, “your Irish ancestry is showing again.”
Her brown eyes rounded incredulously. He had purposely riled her and then stood there, silently laughing, when she reacted
to his anger.
Meggie and Jill were back on the stroke of twelve-thirty. Hariette was sitting in her car outside the apartment building when
they pulled into the parking lot.
“Tell Dad I left with Hariette, okay?” Jill said as she leaped out the door.
“Jill, wait,” Meggie insisted. For the present she wanted to avoid Quinn as much as possible, at least give him the time to
recuperate without someone fussing over him. He didn’t want her there and would assume she’d made an excuse to see him if