I try to cover it with bravado and arrogance, but down deep Im a wimp about my family.

As they closed the piano and put the sound equipment away, some patrons stayed at their tables and a handful wandered to the bar. A few left, having had their meals and watched the show. Amidst the buzz of renewed conversation, a little runt ran up to Pa and threw himself at the older mans knees.

Pas brows skyrocketed. "Oh, Good Lord in the heavens. Rory?"

"Shh," Rory said when Pa bent down to hug the boy. "Were supposed to keep quiet that Im home."

His mas face lit from within. "Your mamas here, isnt she?" Mary Kate clapped a hand over her heart. "Our girl came to us for her birthday."

Dylan had been disappointed they wouldnt be with Bailey when she turned forty the day after tomorrow, so this was great news. Pat bent down and picked up Rory, cuddled the boys face to his chest to prevent patrons from realizing who he was and then headed out of the pub proper.

No sign of Bailey at the end of the bar, but Bridget winked at them. "Shes out back," she whispered. Dylan knew the secrecy was because of the stir Bailey would create if people recognized her, especially given how Clays position had changed.

All four brothers tried to muscle their way through the door to the back room, but Aidan got in first. He rushed to Bailey, who was seated on the couch but stood when they entered. Dylan got a brief glimpse of jeans and a Harvard sweatshirt before Aidan gave her a bear hug that could crush ribs. "I knew youd come, B. I knew it." The pure joy in his brothers voice made Dylan smile.

"Im happy Im here, too, A."

The rest of the guys let their parents embrace her, then each brother took turns hugging her. Dylan was last. "Im glad you came home, sweetheart."

Her return hug was extra-long. "Me, too. We need some private time to catch up later."

"Where are the little ones?" Patrick asked after Bailey sat with his parents on the couch, Aidan hitched a hip on the arm of the sofa closest to Bay, and Pat took a chair. Liam and Dylan leaned up against the wall.

"Angel and Tyler stayed back at the townhouse. They were exhausted by the time we got home. Anika came to New York with us, so shes there. You can see the kids tomorrow."

"No fair," Aidan whined. He turned to Rory. "But at least my man is here." He held up his palms for two high fives; Rory slapped him heartily.

"Are they safe, la.s.s?" Pa asked.

"Uh-huh. Two extra Secret Service agents came along."

As if on cue, Mitch Calloway poked his head in from the kitchen. "Everything okay in here?"

Bailey rolled her eyes. "Yes, sir."

He gave her an affectionate glare.

Liam said to Mitch, "I can make you guys something to eat."

"No, thanks. We ate on the plane."

"Coffee, then." Liam ducked out behind Mitch.

"How come theyre not sticking close to you?" Aidan asked.

"Because this back room only leads to the kitchen; being in here is safe and gives me privacy with my family."

They spent an hour visiting, each of the boys taking turns to go see if Bridget needed help.

Near eight, Dylan glanced surrept.i.tiously at his watch. "Im, um, going out front with Bridget."

"Why?" Aidan asked.

"Rachel Scotts show is on."

Pats face darkened.

Dylan matched the scowl. "Dont start."

"I wont. Brie says to lay off you and Im gonna do it. Besides, I hate that this bothers me so much."

Dylan never expected any concession from Pat. "I knew I loved your wife for a reason." He socked Pats arm, then headed out to the bar, took a stool within viewing range of the overhead TV and waited for Rachel to come on-screen.

Instead of Rachels pretty face appearing before him, though, another announcer sat in her chair. "Good evening," the man said. "Im Rubin Raskin, filling in for Rachel Scott." He winked at the audience, which Dylan thought inappropriate. "Youll have me for two hours tonight, instead of one." His show followed Rachels.

Hmm. Where was she? On a.s.signment? No, she would have told Dylan, especially after their closeness the other night and how amenable shed been the last two days. He listened to Raskin for a while, then turned the set off. d.a.m.n, he wasnt going to call her like some teenage boy wondering where his girl was, so he wiped up the bar, washed some gla.s.ses. "f.u.c.k," he mumbled and pulled out his cell phone. Ducking into the office, another small room off the bar, he punched in her number. And got, "Rachel Scott. Leave a message at the beep."

Swearing again, he dropped down onto the chair behind the desk and put his feet up on the wood surface. "I am not going to worry about her. So what if she took a night off? Shes ent.i.tled."

A thought hit him. Did she have a date? Nah, shed never miss her show for a man. He hoped nothing was wrong with her family. With Kammy. h.e.l.l, he still couldnt believe Rachel had so many layers to her. She was loyal to her parents, even when they didnt deserve it. And she financed a dance cla.s.s for girls who couldnt afford one.

Rebecca and I had so much growing up.

Closing his eyes, linking his hands behind his neck, he could practically hear her husky voice from the other night, smell her perfume. His mind spun back to their time together after Aidans wedding. Rachel Scott, the woman, not the anchor, had been warm and willing. Intense about his pleasure, yet taking her own. Man, an affair with her would probably blow the top of his head off.

When he realized what he was doing, he dropped his feet to the floor with a loud thunk. Hed made a decision to keep this professional, but hed reneged by going to the gala and helping her out with Kammy. He had to do better. The door to the office opened, and in walked Bailey.

"So, big brother, whats going on?"

Every muscle in Rachels body hurt. The achiness had started about four this afternoon, and within hours, she realized she was too weak to go on camera. Which had never happened before. Huddled in her kitchen, she watched the red numbers on the microwave count down. When the buzzer went off, she took out her cup, placed the chamomile tea bag in it and noticed her hands were shaking. Wrapped up in a green fluffy robe, she was still cold.

Hoping the tea would help, she plodded back to her bedroom, climbed under the covers and sipped the warm drink, inhaling its sweet-smelling daisy scent. Shed turned on NSMBC earlier. Now she had to watch Ruben Raskin put his stamp on the already planned segments of her show and didnt like anything he did. And his voice grated on her nerves. Ten minutes later, she switched off the television, set aside her drink, doused the light and slid deeper under the covers. G.o.d, she hoped she was better in the morning.

"Ready to go, Dad?" Hogan asked.

"You betcha." Dylan shouted over to his sister, "Gonna take you, girl."

Situated in her own saucer, bundled up in light blue down, Baileys nose was bright red and she stuck her tongue out at him like a four-year-old instead of an almost-forty grown woman.

Dylan was glad for the outing that Rory had chosen. The morning sun turned the snow around them crystalline, and the kids were getting a kick out of seeing their puffs of breath in the cold air. Theyd decided as a group that the younger ONeils could skip school for the day. Life was short and Bailey didnt get home often enough!

"Get ready, get set, go!" Liam shouted.

Hogan pushed off Dylan, and Cleary gave Bailey a shove. Behind them, Liam sent Kip Michaels, C.J.s replacement on Baileys security detail, down behind Bay. Mitch Calloway waited at the bottom of the hill.

Hed had objections to this outing...

Ms. ONeil, sledding is a very bad idea. It will be impossible to cover you from all perimeters.

Instead of insisting or ordering, Bailey charmed him into agreeing to let her go. In all the time shed required protection, shed never once gone against their limits, but she had changed their minds more than once with good-naturedness. And it was obvious Mitch had deep affection for Dylans sister.

They whizzed down the hill, neck and neck. Cold wind slapped them in their faces, but Dylan loved it; he could hear Bailey hoot and holler. This was just what he needed, good clean fun with those he loved most in the world.

Brie stood next to Mitch at the bottom of the hill. Pats wife wore a stunning dark pink ski outfit and huge sungla.s.ses. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she yelled, "Come on, Bay, faster."

Bailey and Dylan crossed the finish line together, with Kip not far behind. They knew how to turn into a stop, because theyd been sledding since they were Rorys age. But Kip kept going several more feet until he ran into a bush.

"Bailey won," Brie shouted as she helped his sister-in-law out of the saucer.

Mitch gave Dylan a hand up.

"She did not," Dylan protested. "It was a tie."

"Sore loser," Bailey mumbled.

Dylan drew in a deep breath. "Mitch, tell them."

He held up his palms arrest-style. "My eyes were glued to her, Dylan. Sorry."

Not long after, the rest of the family joined them: Rory and Mikey came down in one saucer big enough for them both. Aidan slid down with Angel. And Pat raced Sinead, Sean, Hogan and Cleary. Dylan grinned. All was right with the world. Briefly, he wondered if Rachel had ever had this kind of fun with her whole family.

"Can we have hot chocolate from the little hut over there?" Rory asked when everyone had had enough of the cold.

Bailey looked to Mitch. He said, "We didnt check it out, and besides, he should eat only food or drink we provide."

Since he caved on the sledding, Dylan guessed, Bailey looked down at her son. "Sorry, sport, not enough security for us to go somewhere else."

"Aw..." Bailey bent down in front of Rory, whose lips were in a big pout. "We have to make sacrifices, honey. Your dads responsibilities affect all of us."

"Sometimes I wish he wasnt vice president. The kids say if he stays president, I wont be able to do anything by myself."

Dylan caught Baileys gaze. He knew she was thinking the same thing as he. Out of the mouths of babes...

The agents helped Bailey, Rory and Mikey into an SUV and joined her. Following behind with Cleary and Hogan, Dylan stared at the car: it had bulletproof gla.s.s, puncture-proof tires, and the body of an armored truck. He wasnt sure if he could stand to live like Bailey did.

Back at the Pub, the air was warm, the scent of stew Liam made for lunch filled the air, and Ma and Pa sat by the window waiting for them. His parents had pa.s.sed on the sledding, reminding Dylan they were getting old. His heart beat faster at the notion of something happening to them. So he walked over, pulled his Ma out of the chair, gave her a big hug and an even bigger smooch.

"Now, what on earth was that for, boy?" Paddy asked.

He held on to her. "Just letting Mama know how much I appreciate her."

Pa mumbled something under his breath.

Bailey approached them with Ty, whod stayed back with his namesake, Sophie and another agent. Dylan took the boy from her. "Hey, scout, how ya doin?"

Only three months old, Tyler cooed and batted Dylans face. Man, the kid was the spitting image of Bailey with dark hair and blue eyes. Then he yawned and stuck his fingers in his mouth. "Looks like somebodys tired." Dylan turned to his sister. "Ill put him to bed upstairs."

Bailey sighed. "Someone has to go with him."

"I will, silly."

"No, I mean an agent. None of the kids can be without one when were up here. The pub is nowhere as secure as Observatory Way."

From behind Bailey, Mitch called out, "Gorman, youre on Tyler duty."

A woman came over and smiled. She was pet.i.te and pretty with hair a shade lighter than Rachels. She smiled. "Ah, my favorite." Vaguely, Dylan remembered her from the time Bailey spent at Keuka Lake and that she and C.J. had clashed. Looked like she was back in favor. She preceded him up the stairs, into his parents bedroom, where the crib was set up. "There you go, buddy." As soon as Dylan set the kid down, he began to fuss. "He likes to be sung to." Gorman angled her head at the door. "I can wait out there."

"Thanks." Dylan sat in his mamas rocker and began a lullaby. Viscerally, he remembered the joy hed felt at having Hogan. Stephanie was okay with him at first, they tended to him equally, but Dylan rocked him to sleep every night.

Closing his eyes, he let the solid weight of the baby, the scent of shampoo and powder soothe him. He tried to stay in the moment and enjoy the sensations.

But as he rocked and sang, rocked and sang, Rachel crept into his head. He wondered for a second time if she wanted kids. They hadnt talked about it. His thoughts turned to the show. Dylan knew he was being an idiot about her absence one day from work and the fact that she hadnt answered his calls last night or this morning. Maybe she was with a man; the notion made his body clench. Still he doubted that. His gut continued to niggle at him that something was wrong. He didnt know what to do about the feeling.

On her knees in front of the toilet-where shed been several times during the night and this morning-Rachel drew back from vomiting into the bowl. She was so sick she could barely lift her head. But she had to stand. Grabbing on to the edge of the tub, she dragged herself up only to sway back into the wall. It held her up for a minute, then she slid down to the floor again. Wrapping her arms around her waist, her mouth tasting like day-old cotton, she drew in deep breaths. A bit of fear wended its way into her consciousness. She didnt know what to do. So far, shed managed to get herself water by putting a pitcher by the bed. Shed tried some toast earlier, when she felt stronger, but lost that an hour afterward. She knew she had to eat, but nothing stayed down. Her stomach cramped at the thought.

The phone rang in the distance.

Call someone, she told herself.

She vowed she would. Shed call Rebecca if she wasnt better by midafternoon. Leaning her head against the wall, she let her eyes close for a minute.

Later that night, Dylan begged away from the family and went home to watch Rachels show. a.s.suming shed be on, he poured himself a Jamesons and dropped down onto his favorite leather recliner in front of the television. This time, a blond female anchor hed seen before came on-screen. "Im Laura Littman and Ill be your host of The Rachel Scott Show tonight."

Enough! s.n.a.t.c.hing his phone off the table next to him, he punched in her number yet again. "This is Rachel Scott. Leave a message at the beep."

Dylan got up and paced. He knew there had to be logical explanations for her absence, but his misgivings were getting worse and worse each time he couldnt contact her. d.a.m.n it. How was he supposed to stay neutral if he didnt know if she was all right?

Ten minutes later, he called her again. No response. He waited until after her show ended and tried again. Still no one answered. So he phoned NSMBC. "I need to speak to Crane Davis."

"Im sorry sir, its after hours and Mr. Davis isnt taking calls."

If he told the woman this was an emergency, hed have to explain why.Im worried that one of your anchors isnt answering her phone sounded weak even to him. Though he hated to do it, he played the sister card. "This is Dylan ONeil, the brother-in-law of the vice president. Clay Wainwright asked me to give Rachel Scotts producer a message."

The woman said, "Just one moment, sir."

The phone was picked up immediately. "Crane Davis." "This is Dylan ONeil, Davis. Im looking for Rachel, and she hasnt been on her show for two nights." Trying to sound casual, he added, "She okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, shes fine. She has a cold and went home with it yesterday. When she called in this morning, she sounded better but still couldnt do her show."

"Is this common for her?"