Driftwood Cottage
Driftwood Cottage
Sherryl Woods
Home, heart and family. Sherryl Woods knows what truly matters. Heather Donovan never thought she’d be leaving Connor O’Brien, with their son in tow. Connor may be the love of her life, but she and her son deserve more than what Connor is willing to give. Chesapeake Shore is the perfect place to start over.With a new business, a new home and a welcoming embrace from the O’Brien family, Heather’s creating a new life for herself – without Connor. So when Connor starts coming around more often, testing her resolve and reminding her why she loves him, Heather is torn. Should she continue to follow her head or maybe it’s time she went back to trusting her heart…Healing families, healing hearts. In Chesapeake second chances happen in the most unexpected ways.
Acclaim for New York Times bestselling author
SherrylWoods
‘Sherryl Woods always delights her readers—including me!’ —No.1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber
‘Compulsively readable … Woods’s novel easily rises above hot-button topics to tell a universal tale of friendship’s redemptive power.’
—Publishers Weekly on Mending Fences
‘Sherryl Woods always delivers a fast, breezy … romance.’
—Jayne Ann Krentz
‘Sherryl Woods gives her characters depth, intensity and the right amount of humour.’
—RT Book Reviews
‘Sherryl Woods is a uniquely gifted writer whose deep understanding of human nature is woven into every page.’
—New York Times bestselling author Carla Neggers
Other novels in the Chesapeake Shores series
THE INN AT EAGLE POINT
FLOWERS ON MAIN
HARBOUR LIGHTS
A CHESAPEAKE SHORES CHRISTMAS
Coming soon
MOONLIGHT COVE
Many of Sherryl’s novels are available in eBook
Please visit: www.mirabooks.co.uk
Driftwood Cottage
Sherryl Woods
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Chesapeake Shores!
Connor O’Brien, who’s been living in Baltimore, is probably the least well-known of the siblings in this large, dysfunctional family. In some ways, though, he’s the son who’s most embittered by his parents’ divorce and the least likely to walk willingly into marriage. And yet Connor’s love for Heather Donovan and the son they share runs deep. He’s devastated when she calls off their relationship, no longer able to pretend that their halfhearted arrangement is enough. Heather wants it all—the vows, the ring, the piece of paper legally binding them together.
Only when an accident nearly claims her life does Connor realise that a future that doesn’t include Heather is no future at all. But ironically, after all the years of declaring his distrust of marriage, Heather doesn’t believe his sudden turnaround. Or does she have issues of her own, after all?
I hope you’ll enjoy the ride as these two struggle to find their way toward happiness—of course with all those meddling O’Briens around to nudge them determinedly in the right direction.
And next, at last, not only Jess but Uncle Thomas will each find the love of their life. There are hints about that in this book, but, as always, it will take some serious prodding for true love to triumph. What’s the fun of a happy ending if there haven’t been a few roadblocks along the way? Enjoy!
All best,
1
Heather Donovan propped open the front door and stood just inside the brightly lit storefront in Chesapeake Shores so she could inhale the scent of sea air from the bay across Shore Road. Turning slowly, she studied the stacks of colorful fabric bolts that had to be sorted and displayed, the unopened boxes of quilting supplies and the quilt racks that still required assembly. Her pride and joy, the carefully crafted shelving units, had been built to her specifications by her son’s grandfather, famed architect Mick O’Brien, for whom her son, little Mick, was named.
Seeing it all coming together was a little overwhelming. Not just opening a business, but all of it—moving to this quaint town, deciding to raise her son on her own, giving up on a future with Connor O’Brien—these were all huge steps. Her mind still reeled when she thought about the recent changes in her life. She might embrace the changes, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t scared to death.
If anyone had told her a few months ago that she would leave the man she loved more than anything, that she would take their son and move from Baltimore to a small seaside town and embark on a whole new career, Heather would have laughed at the absurdity of the predictions. Even though Connor stubbornly had refused to consider marriage, she’d thought they had a good life, that they were committed to one another. She’d believed that so strongly that she’d ignored her parents’—actually it had been mostly her mother’s—warnings about the mistake she was making by having a child with Connor without a ring on her finger.
But, in fact, they—she, Connor and their son—might have gone on exactly like that for years if she hadn’t seen how Connor’s career as a divorce lawyer was chipping away at their relationship, how his anger at his parents was corrupting their day-to-day lives. She didn’t like the embittered man she’d seen him becoming, and he seemed to have no desire to change.
It wasn’t as if she’d made her decision to break up lightly. She’d gone away for several weeks, leaving their son with Connor’s family while she’d pondered what was best for her future and for her child’s. She hadn’t been happy about the conclusion she’d reached, that she needed to start a new life on her own, but she’d made peace with it. And, in time, she knew she’d find the fulfillment that had eluded her with Connor.
Not that she could envision a day when she’d stop loving him, she thought even now, months after making the decision. She sighed at how difficult it sometimes was to reconcile emotions with common sense and facing reality, especially with a precious little boy as a constant reminder of what she’d given up.
A bell over the shop’s front door tinkled merrily, interrupting her thoughts. Megan O’Brien stepped inside, carrying her grandson who beamed at the sight of Heather.
“Mama!” he cried, holding out his chubby little arms. Just over a year old now, he was the joy of Heather’s life.
“He was missing you,” Megan explained, then gave her a commiserating look. “And I thought you might be needing a glimpse of him about now. I know you’re still not over all those weeks the two of you spent apart.”
“Thank you,” Heather said, reaching for her son.
“Feeling overwhelmed?” Megan asked with the kind of insight that Heather had come to treasure.
So many times in the past few months she’d regretted that Megan wouldn’t be her mother-in-law. In many ways Heather felt closer to Connor’s mother than she did to her own mother back in Ohio. A wonderful salt-of-the-earth woman who went to church on Sundays, volunteered at a homeless shelter and in a children’s hospital, Bridget Donovan had an endless store of compassion for everyone except her own daughter. She flatly refused to accept that any daughter of hers would willingly choose not to marry the father of her child.
Heather sighed. As if marriage to Connor had ever been an option, no matter how desperately she might have hoped for it.
Heather bounced baby Mick in her arms as she nodded in response to Megan’s question. “You’re right about feeling overwhelmed,” she said, gesturing around the store. “I have no idea where to start. What if opening a shop, especially here, is a huge mistake? I don’t know anything about running a business. And being here, in this town, surrounded by O’Briens, what was I thinking? Why on earth did I let you talk me into this?”
“Because you knew it was a brilliant idea,” Megan said at once, obviously still pleased with herself for coming up with this solution for Heather’s future.
“Still, doubts are understandable,” she consoled Heather. “You’ve made a lot of changes recently. All good ones, I think. As for starting your own business, this is a natural fit for you. The minute I saw those handmade quilts of yours, I knew it. You do absolutely beautiful work. Everyone in town is going to want to own one of your quilts or have you teach them how to make their own.”
Megan fingered a small folk art quilt of a bay scene as she spoke. “This one, for instance, is a treasure. How can you bear to part with it? And at this price? It needs to cost twice as much.”
“The price is fine. I was just experimenting,” Heather said modestly, still astonished that anyone thought her hobby could turn into a thriving business. She had always enjoyed quilting, and it had filled the quiet evenings while Connor studied. She’d never envisioned it as anything more than a hobby.
In fact, her college degree had been in literature. She’d never quite figured out what to do with that besides teach. After two years in an out-of-control Baltimore high school classroom, she’d gratefully quit when she’d become pregnant with Connor’s baby.
She gestured to the quilt Megan was admiring. “If you aren’t just saying that to calm me down, if you really like it, I’ll make one for you.”
Megan’s eyes brightened. “I’d love it, but I will pay you for it, and I swear I’m going to talk you into doubling the price.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Well, that’s what I’m paying,” Megan countered just as stubbornly. “You’ve a business to run, after all.”
Heather sighed. “Starting a business is just one of my concerns these days,” she admitted. “What about moving out on Connor? Was that the right decision, Megan?” She couldn’t seem to keep a wistful note out of her voice.
“Even that,” Megan assured her. “My son is stubborn, and you’ve given him exactly the wake-up call he needed.” She patted Heather’s hand. “He loves you. Just tuck that knowledge away. He’ll come around if you’re patient.”
“For how long?” Heather asked. “We met our freshman year in college, dated for four years, moved in together when he was in law school. When I found out I was pregnant, I was so sure we’d get married, especially when he encouraged me to quit my job to be a full-time mom. I was certain we were finally going to be a real family, the kind I’d always wanted. He even said that’s what he wanted, too, just without a marriage license.”
She waved off her regrets. “I should have known better than to expect him to change his mind. Connor always told me he had no intention of ever marrying, that he didn’t believe in marriage. It’s not as if I didn’t understand the rules from the very beginning.”
“People don’t make rules about things like that,” Megan said dismissively. “They just let the past control the future. In Connor’s case, his attitude is all because of what happened between his father and me. Now that Mick and I have remarried and started over, I’m convinced Connor will see that love can endure all kinds of trials, including divorce.”
Heather smiled at her optimism. “Have you met Connor? He’s stubborn as a mule. Once he gets an idea into his head, he won’t let go of it. And look how long it’s been since I moved out. It was last Thanksgiving when I left to think things over, January when I officially left him. It’ll be Easter soon, and he still hasn’t shown any signs of changing his mind. He may not be entirely happy that I’m gone, but he’s not doing anything at all to change the situation.”
Megan grinned. “I’m married to a man just like that, his father. Believe me, there are ways of getting through to their hard heads.” She glanced pointedly at the boy in Heather’s arms. “And you’ve your ace in the hole right there. Connor adores his son.”
Heather shook her head. “A couple can’t build a future around a child. It’s not fair. My parents did that. They stayed in a miserable marriage because of me. They thought it would be best, but it wasn’t. The tension was unbearable. I won’t have that for my son.”
“I’m not suggesting that you be together for your child, only that he’ll keep you in Connor’s orbit while he gets his feet back under him and realizes how much he loves you both. Having you with him was entirely too comfortable. He had it all his own way. The stance you’ve taken is the smart one. Eventually he’ll realize what he needs to do to have the two of you back again.”
“I hope you’re right,” Heather admitted, though she wasn’t counting on it. In fact, if things didn’t work out with Connor, it could make her decision to move to Chesapeake Shores where she’d be surrounded by his family the worst one she’d made in years. The O’Briens might provide an enviable support system, but she’d be reminded of what could have been every minute of every day.
“Of course I’m right,” Megan said confidently. “Now tell me what I can do to help you get organized in here. Do you have a system?”
Even to her own ears, Heather’s laugh had an edge of hysteria about it. “If only,” she said, glancing around at the chaos. She regarded Megan hopefully. “Are you sure you have some time to spare?”
“Of course I do. At Mick’s insistence, I’ve hired a very competent assistant at the gallery, and things are under control. In the meantime, I’ll let her know I’ll be right next door if she needs me,” she said, flipping open her cell phone. When she’d made the call, she told Heather, “Now, just put me to work.”
Heather didn’t hesitate. “If you could start opening those boxes, I could begin sorting the fabric for the displays,” she suggested, settling Mick into the playpen she’d already set up in a corner. He uttered an immediate howl of protest, then spotted one of his favorite toys and was quickly absorbed with that.
Heather and Megan worked in companionable silence for a while before Megan inquired, “Have you told Connor about the shop yet? He didn’t mention it last time we spoke and I certainly didn’t want to be the one to fill him in.”
Heather stiffened. “It hasn’t come up. Truthfully, we barely exchange a dozen words when I drop Mick off to spend the day with him. I haven’t even told him I’ve moved here. He reaches me on my cell phone when he needs to, so it’s not as if it really matters where I’ve settled. I suppose if I’d run off to California, he might have a legitimate complaint, but I’m barely an hour away. Nothing’s changed in terms of his schedule to see little Mick.”
Megan looked distressed by her response. “Oh, Heather, you need to tell him,” she said. “And you need to do it before he comes home for a visit and discovers it for himself or before someone else in the family blabs. He’ll be furious that you’ve kept it from him.”
Heather shrugged. “It’ll just be one more thing to add to the list. He’s already angry that I refused to move back in. To be honest, he wasn’t all that happy when I insisted on keeping little Mick with me after I’d left him here with you while I was trying to sort through things and get my head on straight. He apparently thought the arrangement was going to be permanent.”
“There’s no question that he liked having the baby here with him and the rest of the family,” Megan acknowledged. “We all did. But I think everyone except Connor understood it was only temporary.”
Heather regarded her with sorrow. “Sometimes I think I’m destined to keep making things worse between Connor and me. If we talk at all, we’re at odds over everything.”
Megan smiled at that. “It’s only awkward right now because you won’t give him what he wants—an unconditional commitment that doesn’t include marriage. He has to learn that he can’t always have things on his own terms.”
“But aren’t I doing the same thing, expecting to have things on my terms?” Heather asked.
Megan regarded her thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s true. Maybe it’s just because I think you’re the one who’s right that I’m not blaming any of this standoff on you. I think two people who love each other and have a child together ought to at least try marriage, that they ought to be fighting to make it work.”
She sighed. “Goodness knows, I spent years trying to make things work with Mick before I took the drastic step of leaving. Even in hindsight, I don’t think I had a choice by then, though I know I should have handled things differently and much better where all of our children were concerned. I still regret that, and I’d never have forgiven myself if I’d simply run at the first sign of trouble, rather than leaving as a last resort.”
Heather grinned at her. “But here you are, together again. Happy endings still happen. Why can’t Connor see that, especially when it’s right in front of his face?”
“I fear it’s because he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body,” Megan replied sorrowfully. “He’s become cynical when it comes to love. Mick and I did that to him, and that job of his—dealing with bitter divorces every single day—has reaffirmed his jaded views.”
“Then what makes you think he’ll ever come around?” Heather asked.
“Because I am a romantic,” Megan said, smiling. “I believe in the power of love. And I know how deeply he cares about the people he has let into his heart—his sisters and his brother, his grandmother, even Mick when they’re not battling over one thing or another.”
“I saw that side of him, too, or thought I did,” Heather said softly, though her voice lacked the conviction of Megan’s.
“Then don’t give up on Connor,” Megan advised. “He’ll find his way back to you. I believe that, too.”
As much as she admired the older woman and respected her opinions, Heather wished she could share Megan’s faith where Connor was concerned. So far she hadn’t seen even the tiniest chink in his well-established armor. He was dead-set against letting emotion overrule his very stubborn head, at least when it came to her.
Connor stood in the middle of his townhouse in Baltimore and wondered why it no longer felt like home. The furniture he and Heather had chosen was still in place. She’d taken nothing when she left, and yet without her the place felt empty. The kitchen cupboards were filled with dishes, the refrigerator stocked with food, albeit mostly of the frozen variety. In fact, despite her departure several months ago, Heather’s touch was everywhere, right down to the framed photos of his son scattered over just about every surface.
Heather’s glowing face beamed back at him from many of them, as well. It always made his heart catch when he caught an unexpected glimpse of her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, inside and out. Most people saw the shining blond hair, hazel eyes and delicate features and focused on those, but he knew she had the most generous heart on earth. She’d put up with him long enough to prove she was a saint.
And then she’d gone. Just like that, on Thanksgiving Day while he’d been out nursing his wounds over a glass of Irish whisky with a couple of buddies, decrying his parents’ plan to remarry, Heather had packed up their son and left. To add to his dismay, she’d dropped the baby off on his parents’ doorstep, dragging both Mick and Megan into the middle of the drama. Connor wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive her for that.
Disgruntled just by the thought of the humiliation he’d felt having to go home to Chesapeake Shores and explain himself to the mother from whom he’d been estranged for years, he poured himself another glass of Irish whisky. He went into his office hoping to push all of his sour thoughts out of his head and get some work done. Before he could cross the room, though, the doorbell rang. He opened it to find his brother Kevin standing there.
“This is an unexpected surprise,” Connor said, regarding Kevin warily. His brother wasn’t in the habit of dropping in. The last time he had, he’d found a very pregnant Heather on the scene and nearly been struck dumb by the awkward moment. He’d mostly stayed away since.
“You feel like some company?” Kevin inquired, moving aside to reveal two of their oldest friends, Will and Mack, along with Connor’s brothers-in-law, Trace Riley and Jake Collins.
Connor scowled, his worst fears confirmed. They were here on some kind of mission. It was anyone’s guess who’d put them up to it. His money was on his father.
“And if I don’t?” he asked.
“Hey, Baltimore’s a big city. I’m sure we can find someplace else to hang out,” Jake said. “I’m not wasting this chance for a guys’ night. The only reason your sister let me out of our regular date night is because Kevin told her we were coming to see you.”
Connor stared at Jake incredulously. “You let Bree tell you what you can and can’t do? Come on, man, that’s just pitiful.” It reaffirmed his low opinion of marriage as well, even if they were talking about his sister.
Jake grinned. “I let her think that’s how it works,” he corrected. “And, to be perfectly honest, this date night idea of hers has some amazing benefits, or at least it did until she got so pregnant she can barely move. She blames the huge belly, the baby’s constant kicking and the swollen ankles all on me. These days I can pretty much forget about sex.”
Connor clapped his hands over his ears. “Too much information,” he protested. He turned to Trace. “And Abby? Does she have to give you permission to go out with the guys?”
“No way,” Trace said forcefully. “However, it helps that she’s staying in Baltimore tonight herself because of work, so the subject didn’t really come up.”
“What did you do with the twins?” Connor asked, referring to Abby’s very precocious daughters who were now nine-going-on-nineteen. “They’re a little young to be left on their own.”
“They’re staying with Grandma Megan and Grandpa Mick,” Trace said. “The only drawback is that tomorrow I will once again have to explain that ice cream and candy are not the two most important food groups. I’ll have to try to convince them of that before Mommy gets home.”
“You two do have your trials, don’t you?” Connor said to his brothers-in-law with amusement. “You’re not exactly walking endorsements for marriage.”
Trace and Jake exchanged a worried look that said it all. Obviously at least some part of their mission was to convince him what a mess he was making of things with Heather.
Still, since the men were on his doorstep and he was in desperate need of company, Connor stepped aside to let them enter. “I don’t suppose any of you thought to bring food, did you? I have a freezer full of frozen dinners, but that’s about it.”
“Mack has the closest pizza place on speed dial,” Kevin assured him. “His cell phone allows him to find that in any city in the country. He may be lonely, but he’ll never starve.”
“I’m not all that lonely,” Mack retorted.
“Even though he still claims he’s not dating your cousin Susie, they seem to spend every spare minute together,” Will taunted. “I’m thinking of writing some kind of case study for a psychology journal on the whole phenomenon of delusional nondating.”
“Bite me,” Mack replied cheerfully, then took out his phone. “Pizza okay for everyone?”
“Works for me,” Connor said, then looked pointedly at his unexpected guests. “As long as it doesn’t come with a side order of meddling.”
“Absolutely not,” Kevin said solemnly.
“Agreed,” Trace said.
“No meddling with dinner,” Will said, then grinned. “We’re saving that for dessert.”
“How’d things go with Heather today?” Mick asked Megan when they met for dinner at one of the small cafés along Shore Road in the same block as her gallery.
“She’s getting settled in,” Megan told him. “I think her business is going to be wildly successful. She showed me her apartment upstairs today, too, and it’s adorable, just right for her and little Mick.”
“I still don’t understand why she wouldn’t move into the house with us,” Mick grumbled. “Little Mick’s already comfortable there. We have plenty of room.”
“And it would put the two of them right in Connor’s face every time he comes home,” Megan said. “Is that what you were hoping for?”
“Well, why not?” Mick replied testily. “If those two would spend a little more time together, they could work things out. You know it as well as I do.”
“I also know they can’t be rushed. Time apart may be the best thing for them right now.”
Mick regarded his wife with amusement. “Don’t act as if you’re not doing your share of manipulating, woman. I know all about the way you put a bug in Kevin’s ear to spend some time with Connor tonight. The way I hear it, he, Jake, Trace, Will and Mack have all been dispatched to Connor’s place to extol the joys of married life.”
Megan regarded him innocently. “Will and Mack aren’t married.”
“Maybe not, but Will’s a shrink, so he has all sorts of insights to offer, I’m sure. As for Mack, he might as well be, for all the time he’s spending with Susie these days.” He shook his head in bewilderment. “I have no idea why my brother hasn’t stepped in and taken control of that situation. It’s time for Mack to get off the dime and propose to that girl, or at least admit he’s dating her.”
“Your brother is not the natural-born meddler that you are,” Megan reminded him. “I’m sure Susie and Mack are very grateful for that.”
“There you go, sounding all superior again, when I know for a fact you’re every bit the meddler that I am,” Mick accused.
Megan laughed. “What can I say? I want all of our children to be as happy and settled as we are.”
Mick studied her face, looking for any sign of discontent. After missing too many hints of unhappiness during their first marriage, he was determined to be attuned to every nuance of their relationship this time around.
“You mean that?” he asked directly. “You’re happy?”
“Of course I am. I have everything I could possibly want. You and I are back together. I’ve opened a business I love, and it’s gotten off to a solid start. And my relationship with each of our children is getting stronger every day. What could I possibly have to complain about?”
“Maybe the fact that you never did get that honeymoon I promised you,” Mick suggested.
Megan shrugged as if having the honeymoon of her dreams was of no consequence, even though they’d only been able to afford a trip to Ocean City for a weekend when they’d first wed all those years ago.
“That’s my own fault, not yours,” she told him. “Everything started coming together for the gallery right after the first of the year. There was no time to get away.”
“And now?” he asked. “You think you could spare a little time for me?”
“The gallery’s opened. My assistant’s trained. I suppose I could get away,” she said thoughtfully, then met his gaze with a sparkle in her eyes. “I’m quite sure that wasn’t an idle question, Mick O’Brien. What did you have in mind?”
“A week in Paris,” he said at once. He pulled two tickets out of his pocket and set them on the table. “And before you get all worked up over me being presumptuous, note that they don’t have a date on them. We can go whenever you say the word.”
Megan reached for his hand. “Who could have imagined that you could still learn a thing or two at this late date?”
He laughed at that. “When the motivation’s powerful enough, a man can always learn something new. I hope Connor figures that out before it’s too late.”
Megan’s previously lighthearted mood visibly darkened at his words. “Oh, Mick, I hope so, too, but there’s only so much you and I can do to make sure that happens. The rest is up to him and Heather.”
Mick knew that, but nevertheless it went against the grain to leave something so important to chance.
“You won’t object if I do a thing or two to nudge things along, will you?” he asked.
She gave him a stern look. “Nudge all you want, but pay attention to the signs, Mick. When they’re all but shouting to back off, do it. I mean that.” She grinned at him. “And something tells me this is definitely an ideal time for me to get you out of town before you do something we’ll both regret. Make those reservations for Paris. I’ll try to keep you preoccupied over there, so Connor and Heather can have a little breathing room back here.”
“A sneaky approach,” he said approvingly, “but you’re forgetting one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m great at multitasking.”
Megan met his gaze, laughter lurking in her eyes. “Is that so?” she inquired softly as she deliberately ran her hand along the inside of his thigh. “Do you really want to bet that I can’t make you forget all about Chesapeake Shores, much less meddling?”
Mick swallowed hard. Sadly, she had a point. The good news was that they were going to have one helluva time while she set out to prove it.
2
The combined efforts of the men in his family and his friends convinced Connor to make the drive to Chesapeake Shores on Saturday. He hadn’t been home since his parents’ wedding on New Year’s Eve. Though he’d made his peace with both Mick and even Megan, things seemed to go better between them when he kept his distance. Their capacity for meddling was beyond his for resisting. They’d made their opinions of his relationship with Heather crystal clear.
The drive home had been pleasant for a change. Although the weather was especially mild for late March, it was too early for most of the tourists and weekenders who flocked to the small towns on the Chesapeake Bay later in the season.
Arriving in Chesapeake Shores to discover all the hints that spring was just around the corner, he realized how much he missed being home. This time of year the town green was edged with beds of daffodils, the salty air of the bay beckoned and there was something special about the way the morning sun filtered through a haze and sparkled on the dew that covered the fresh green lawns.
With temperatures hovering close to seventy, he actually had visions of taking his old rowboat out for a lazy day of fishing. Maybe he could even convince Kevin to come along. It had been ages since they’d spent an idle day out on the water together.
Before heading toward home, he made the drive along Main Street, then turned right onto Shore Road. It was practically a ritual to take a tour of the town his father and uncles had built, to see what was happening. There were always one or two changes that caught him by surprise, especially in spring, when most new businesses chose to open in time for the summer tourist season.
He spotted the “Open” flag fluttering outside his mother’s new art gallery and resolved to make his duty call there later in the day, since he’d missed the official opening. He was anxious to see if she was as knowledgeable about art as his father and the rest of the family seemed to think she was.
Before he drove on, Connor caught a glimpse of another new store right next door. A beautiful handmade quilt hung in the window, a quilt, he realized with a sense of shock, that looked very familiar because it—or one exactly like it—had once hung on the wall in his townhouse. It was the one thing that had gone missing after Heather’s departure.
Slamming on the brakes, he looked around until he spotted a parking place up the street. He swung into it, then tried to still the sudden racing of his heart. He knew that quilt because Heather had made it. He’d watched her in the evenings as she’d stitched every seam, quilted every square, while he’d been studying for his law school classes. He’d been captivated by the contentment on her face as she’d worked quietly, happy just to be in a room with him.
Spotting that quilt in a store window shouldn’t throw him like this, he thought as he strode across the street. It shouldn’t matter to him that she’d apparently put it up for sale. But it did.
It offended him to think that maybe she was giving it up because she needed cash. How much could a quilt bring in, anyway? He thought he’d been giving her generous support money for their son, enough for both of them really, but maybe it wasn’t covering expenses, after all. He knew, though, from their heated exchanges, that she was too proud to take more.
Worse, of course, was the idea that she was selling the quilt because she couldn’t bear to look at it anymore, because it reminded her of him. Had she grown to hate him so much? It was true that most of their conversations recently had been brief and edgy, but he’d convinced himself they’d eventually move past the cool civility of late. Maybe that was just another of his many delusions where Heather was concerned, right up there beside the idea that she would change her mind and move back home with him.
He glanced at the sign on the window, which he hadn’t noticed earlier: COTTAGE QUILTS. For some reason that struck a distant chord as well. Had Heather ever mentioned opening a shop like this one? Was it one of the dreams she’d had before setting them aside to be with him? He’d known how much she’d hated teaching, but he couldn’t recall what she’d hoped to do instead once the baby was a bit older. That just reminded him of how many conversations they’d avoided over their years together. Anything involving the future had presented a minefield.
Just then he saw and heard her, Heather, standing amid a sea of fabric with a customer, talking animatedly about which colors worked well together and which ones clashed. With a sense of shock, he realized that not only was her quilt for sale, but that she was working here. How had that happened? Filled with questions, he stood where he was, just outside the open door, and waited.
When the customer left with a heavy bag filled with fabric, Connor stepped inside. Heather looked up, a smile on her face that faltered at the sight of him.
“Connor,” she said, a catch in her voice. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“Chesapeake Shores is my home,” he reminded her, his own tone testy. “What the devil are you doing here?”
She gestured around her. “What does it look like? I’ve opened a business.”
A thousand questions came to mind, but he blurted only one. “This is yours?”
She nodded, her expression defensive.
“You opened a business here? In my town?” he said incredulously.
She smiled at his reaction. “Actually if the town belongs to any one person, it would be your father, but I’m pretty sure it’s open to new residents.”
“You didn’t think you needed to tell me you’d moved here?”
“I would have as soon as we got settled. Getting this place open has taken a lot of my time.”
“Don’t tell me you’re living with my folks,” he said, regarding her with suspicion, already sensing a plot afoot to throw them together. After all, wasn’t that exactly what his mother had hinted at her wedding, that she intended to see that he was next to walk down the aisle? And it would definitely explain the unexpected visit by all the men in the family the previous weekend and their push to drag him down here.
“No. Believe me, I know that would have been a bad idea. I have my own apartment upstairs. Your mother and I …”
He frowned at the mention of his mother. “What does my mother have to do with this? Was it her idea?”
“In a way, yes,” Heather admitted at once.
“And you went along with it,” he said with a dismayed shake of his head. “Haven’t I told you she can’t be trusted?”
Heather visibly stiffened. “You told me a lot of things, Connor, all probably valid from your perspective, but I prefer to form my own opinions of people. I happen to like your mother, and even you have to admit she’s been a godsend in recent months, looking after little Mick.”
Connor bristled. “That still doesn’t mean you should take her advice. Did she tell you if you settled here, eventually I’d cave in and marry you?”
Heather frowned at him. “Trust me, I know your position on marriage, Connor. You’ve stated it often enough and in no uncertain terms. It’s ingrained in my head.”
“Then what are you doing here?” he asked again, genuinely bewildered about why she’d pick this town if not because it was his hometown.
“This decision was all about me and what I want for my future. Your mother saw my quilts and thought I had talent. When I was here for the wedding, she mentioned this space and the apartment upstairs. It seemed ideal for me, especially since it meant our son would get to be around his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. It was a far better option than going back to Ohio to be around my family, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
As rational as all that sounded, Connor couldn’t get over the fact that she’d kept this from him. “We’ve seen each other at least a half-dozen times since the wedding when you brought little Mick to spend the day with me, yet you never said a word about any of this. Why not?”
“You’ve always known exactly how to reach me on my cell phone. You haven’t missed a minute with your son. I didn’t think you’d be interested in knowing where I’m living,” she said with a shrug.
“Of course I’m interested. We’re talking about my son!” he said, his voice climbing.
He saw a bit of light die in her eyes at his words and knew he’d said exactly the wrong thing. It was a habit he’d inadvertently gotten into and couldn’t seem to break. When he should have been telling Heather he missed her, he couldn’t seem to choke out the words. The admission would have revealed a vulnerability he wasn’t prepared for her to see.
“Nothing’s changed where little Mick’s concerned,” Heather assured him, her voice tight. “You’ll still see him whenever you want to. This might not be as convenient as having us in Baltimore, but we’re hardly at the ends of the earth. Besides, other than giving him a chance to get to know his family, this move wasn’t about him, either. It was about me, and it’s been clear for some time now that I don’t matter to you. It was past time for a fresh start. Chesapeake Shores had a lot of advantages that other places wouldn’t have had. I’m sure even you can’t deny that.”
He understood why she thought she didn’t matter to him, but it annoyed him just the same. “Don’t be ridiculous. I love you. We have a son together. And what kind of fresh start is it, if you’re surrounded by my family?”
“This is where I need to be right now. Deal with it,” she said.
Her tone was surprisingly unyielding. What had happened to the accommodating woman he’d known so well? Before he could ask, she held up her hand to stop him.
“I am not having this discussion here, where a customer could come in at any moment,” she said firmly. “Please go, Connor. If you want to spend some time with your son today, he’s with your dad. I think Mick planned to take advantage of the weather and take him and his cousins Davy and Henry out on the dock by the house to fish.”
Connor wanted to stand here and argue with her, tell her that moving here, getting close to his family was a mistake, but he didn’t have the right. His stubborn refusal to take the next step and marry her had cost him the chance to have any say over her decisions beyond those directly related to their son. And how could he possibly argue that a place as serene as Chesapeake Shores with his own family all around was anything other than a perfect place to raise a child? He dropped the argument.
“Will I see you at the house later?” he asked.
“I doubt it. Shanna will bring little Mick home when she picks up Davy and Henry.”
“Tomorrow?” he pressed, not sure why he wanted to know just how deeply she’d insinuated herself into his family’s routines. “Will you be at Sunday dinner?”
She held his gaze. “Will it bother you if I am?”
“Of course not,” he said, managing to utter the lie despite a boatload of regrets. Seeing her, knowing he’d lost her, was some kind of sweet torture.
“Then we’ll see you there. Maybe we’ll have a chance to talk about how we’re going to make this work.” She gave him a hesitant smile. “Connor, I don’t want it to be awkward every time we run into each other. I really don’t.”
He sighed. “Neither do I.”
He just wasn’t sure it was possible to act as if everything between them had never mattered. Because the truth was, he’d realized months ago that she and his son were the only things in his life that did matter. He just didn’t see any way to hold on to them without betraying his core belief that most marriages were a sham and led, not to happily-ever-after but to misery.
Back at the house his father had built when he was first developing Chesapeake Shores, Connor paused long enough to throw his bag into his boyhood room, which still had his old sports posters on the walls. In the kitchen he grabbed a handful of Gram’s cookies, relieved to find that she hadn’t stopped baking, even though everyone, including her, had moved out of the main house, leaving it to his father and mother. Apparently Gram still made sure the cookie jar was stocked for visits by all of her great-grandchildren.
Crossing the wide expanse of lawn toward the bay, he could hear the laughter of children coming from the dock, followed by the low, surprisingly patient voice of his father. Stepping out onto the weathered gray boards, warmed by the midday sun, Connor stood unnoticed as his father baited hooks and helped his three grandsons cast their lines, one arm firmly around little Mick at all times. Only Henry and Davy had any real hope of reeling in a fish, but even from his spot in his grandfather’s lap, little Mick dangled his line into the calm waters of the bay, chattering happily to himself in nonsensical words, to which Mick replied as if he could understand him perfectly.
“I wish I had a camera,” Connor said quietly, causing Mick to glance up with a broad smile. “I can’t recall a time you ever spent the day fishing with me and Kevin.”
Mick’s smile faded at the barb. “You’re probably right. And it was my loss. I thank God every day that I have another chance with these boys.”
Up until now Davy and Henry had been totally absorbed with watching the water for some evidence that fish were nearby. When they looked up and spotted Connor, grins broke across their faces. Here was the uncle who was more grown-up playmate than authority figure.
“Uncle Connor, sit with us,” Davy pleaded. “You can put the worms on my line.”
“Big boys put their own bait on the hooks,” Mick told him firmly. “I just showed you how to do it.”
Davy wrinkled his nose. “But it’s yucky.”
Connor grinned. “That it is. Give me a minute with your granddad and little Mick, then I’ll come help you.”
While listening to the exchange, Mick studied Connor curiously. “What brings you home? Were we expecting you?”
“Do I need to make a reservation these days?” Connor asked defensively. For a time he’d been banished from his home for trying to interfere in his father’s plan to wed his mother again, but he’d thought his exile was in the past. In fact, he’d even moved in for a time when Heather had left his son here for several weeks. He’d commuted to work in Baltimore during that time.
“Of course you don’t need a reservation,” Mick said impatiently. “You just haven’t come back here since the wedding. Or should I say since Heather took your boy to be with her?”
“I was persuaded that I was overdue for a visit,” Connor admitted wryly.
Mick chuckled. “Then the mission was a success. You can thank your mother for pulling that together.”
Connor frowned. “Mom sent Kevin and the others to Baltimore? I’d figured you were behind it.”
“Not this time. It was your mother who planted a few seeds here and there,” Mick admitted.
“I suppose it was all about getting me down here so I could discover that Heather’s living in town with my son.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Mick agreed.
Connor directed a sour look at his father. “It’s not going to work, you know.”
Mick reached over to put another worm on Davy’s hook when he saw the boy struggling with it, then glanced up at Connor. “What’s not going to work?”
“Throwing Heather and me together. We’re not getting married.”
Mick shrugged. “Up to you, though it seems a shame for this boy of yours not to have a full-time daddy in his life.” He frowned at Connor. “And before you say a word, I may have been gone too much, but I was a full-time father, and all of you knew it.”
Back on the defensive, Connor said, “My son knows I love him.”
“How’s he supposed to know a thing like that when he never sees you?”
“I see him all the time,” Connor said. “Heather brought him for a visit just last week.”
“For an hour or two, I’ll bet,” Mick scoffed. “What kind of parenting is that?”
“He’s little more than a year old,” Connor protested. “Right now he needs his mother more than he needs me. When he’s a little older, he’ll spend more time with me.”
“And he’ll still grow up to complain that he hardly knew his daddy,” Mick said, then held up a hand to forestall Connor’s retort. “Pot calling the kettle black, I know, but that makes me the voice of experience. Don’t let these precious years pass by without being a part of them. Learn from my mistakes.”
Connor considered another quick, heated comeback, but instead dropped down onto the dock next to little Mick. “Hey, buddy, catch anything?”
His son gave him a wide grin and happily waved his tiny fishing rod in the air. He crawled off Mick’s lap to lean into Connor’s side, snuggling close, and reminding Connor in ways that Mick’s words never could, of just what his stubbornness was costing him.
When the quilt shop had emptied of customers around lunchtime, Heather called next door and reached Megan. “Do you have a minute?”
“Jane’s about to go pick up a couple of sandwiches, so I can’t leave just now. What’s going on?”
“Could you just meet me out front? We’ll both be able to see if any customers come this way.”
“Sure. Do you want Jane to bring back something for you, too?”
Food was the last thing on Heather’s mind. All she’d been able to think about for the past hour was Connor’s unexpected appearance earlier.
“If she’s going to Sally’s, have her bring me back a tuna fish sandwich on a croissant,” she said eventually. “I’ll bring the money outside with me now.”
“Will do. See you in a minute,” Megan promised.
One of the improvements the town had made along Main Street and Shore Road had been to add benches in front of many of the shops. It allowed weary shoppers to rest for a few minutes, but even more essential, it allowed bored husbands to relax outside, instead of pacing around casting daunting looks that cut short their wives’ shopping sprees.
Though the sun was warm, the breeze off the bay was cool. Heather pulled on a sweater, then sat outside to wait for Megan. When Connor’s mother joined her, she sighed as she sat down.
“This feels so good,” Megan said. “I’ve been on my feet all morning. I shouldn’t complain, because that means business has been good. How about you? Were you busy?”
“Swamped,” Heather said. “Mostly lookers, but I did have a couple of nice sales.”
Megan regarded her intently. “Then why don’t you look happier?”
“Connor’s here,” she announced, watching Megan closely for a reaction.
“Really? He didn’t let any of us know he was coming.”
“But you knew he might be coming home, didn’t you? You don’t sound all that surprised.”
Megan shrugged. “I hoped he’d be home soon, of course, but I didn’t know his plans.”
Heather still didn’t believe Megan was as clueless as she was pretending to be. “Why didn’t you warn me? He walked in here this morning, spoiling for a fight. I’m not even sure how he knew this shop was mine, since you said you hadn’t told him.”
“I hadn’t said a word,” Megan reiterated. “He might have recognized the quilt in the window. Didn’t you tell me it used to hang on the wall in your apartment?”
Heather couldn’t believe Connor had paid that much attention to the quilt she’d made. When she’d worked on it in the evenings, his head had mostly been buried in law books. He’d barely even commented when she’d hung it in their townhouse.
“I suppose it’s possible,” she conceded slowly. “Are you sure you didn’t let something slip about the shop?”
“I told you I wouldn’t,” Megan said, clearly not taking offense at the question. “But I did warn you he was bound to find out about it sooner or later. Is he upset?”
Heather nodded. “I’m not entirely sure if it’s because it caught him off guard or because I’m here in his town.”
“Probably a little of both,” Megan assessed. “Did you talk?”
“Not really. I didn’t want to get into anything here when a customer could walk in at any second. We agreed we’d talk some more when I bring little Mick over for dinner tomorrow.”
The look of satisfaction in Megan’s eye suggested she’d been hoping for exactly that. Heather studied her suspiciously. “Are you sure you didn’t have anything to do with luring him down here this weekend?”
“I can honestly say that I haven’t spoken to him in days,” Megan said.
“I think there’s a loophole in there somewhere, but I swear I can’t spot it,” Heather said with regret. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter what Connor’s doing here. Like you said, he was bound to turn up sooner or later. I guess I’d just been hoping for later. I’m not quite ready to go head-to-head with him. I’m still feeling my way with this new life of mine. I might not be strong enough to defend every decision.”
“Of course you are,” Megan said. “You’ve started a whole new life for yourself and your son. You can handle anything Connor dishes out. You were strong enough to walk away, after all. That took courage, Heather, especially when your heart wanted you to stay.”
“I only did it because I felt I didn’t have any other choice. Your son is a very smooth talker. If he puts his mind to it, he can destroy all of my rational reasons for being here and convince me I belong with him.”
Megan regarded her curiously. “Are you really worried that he’ll talk you into something you don’t want to do?” she asked, then added gently, “Or that he won’t try at all?”
Heather sat back with a heartfelt sigh. There it was, the undeniable truth. As smart as she knew her decision to move out and leave Connor had been, a part of her still desperately wanted him to fight to get her back. If he didn’t, the part of her heart that wasn’t already broken would finally shatter.
Connor’s plan to take his rowboat out for the afternoon had pretty much gone up in smoke when he’d discovered Heather was now living in town and his son was hanging out with his grandfather.
When little Mick tired of being outside with his cousins, Connor scooped him up and headed for the house. “I’ll make some sandwiches, Dad. Will you and the boys be up soon?”
“A half hour,” Mick said. “Then we’re all going to take naps, right, boys?”
Henry regarded him with a serious look that puckered his brow. “I don’t take naps anymore, Grandpa Mick.”
“Me, either,” Davy chimed in.
“Well, I do,” Mick said.
“So does your cousin,” Connor told the boys. “If you’re not sleepy after lunch, I’ll play a game with you, okay?”
“Henry’ll beat you,” Davy boasted of his older stepbrother. “He’s good at games.”
Connor laughed. “Then I’ll need to be very careful which game I pick to play. I hold the record at some of them.”
Mick shook his head. “Are you still that competitive kid who hated having anyone beat you at anything?” he asked Connor.
“Sure am,” Connor replied, giving him a wink. “See you at the house.”
An hour later Connor had fed the kids, then sent both his son and Mick off for naps before settling down in the den with Davy and Henry. Despite his protests, Davy fell asleep before he could even get the video system set up. Connor carried him upstairs, returned, then turned to Henry.
“You sure you wouldn’t rather rest for a while?” he asked him.
Henry regarded him eagerly. “I’d rather play,” he said at once. “Davy’s not much competition, and Grandpa Mick and Kevin don’t really understand how the game works.”
Connor made a big show of sizing him up. “You any good?”
“Really good,” Henry said in a rare show of confidence from a boy just starting to find his place in his new family.
“Want to place a little bet on the outcome?” Connor taunted. “You win, I’ll take you into town for ice cream. I win, you treat.”
“Don’t do it,” Kevin said, wandering in with a handful of cookies just in time to overhear. “Your uncle Connor cheats.”
Connor turned on his brother indignantly. “I most certainly do not. If anyone cheats, it’s you, big brother.”
“Since when?” Kevin said, snatching up the remote.
Behind them Henry giggled. “You guys are crazy.”
Kevin grinned at his stepson. “You are not the first to notice that, my boy. How about you and me team up against this hotshot? I think we can take him.”
Henry nodded eagerly. “Awesome!”
“That doesn’t strike me as fair,” Connor said, “but bring it on.”
An hour later, he’d destroyed the two of them. He regarded Kevin with satisfaction. “Who’s crying now? I see a double hot fudge sundae in my future.”
“Okay, okay, we bow to your superior expertise,” Kevin said, winking at Henry. “Why don’t you run upstairs and see if Davy’s awake? We should probably get home.” He glanced at Connor. “I was supposed to take little Mick back to Heather, but I assume you’d rather do that yourself.” He studied him pointedly. “Or am I wrong?”
“I’ll take him,” Connor said, his voice suddenly tight as he scowled at his brother. “So, you knew when you came to Baltimore the other night that Heather and little Mick were living here in town?”
“Guilty,” Kevin said.
“Yet you saw no need to mention it,” Connor said accusingly.
“Hey, all of this is between the two of you. The rest of us are innocent bystanders.”
“Innocent, my behind,” Connor said. “Since when has any O’Brien ever stood on the sidelines when it comes to stuff like this? You’re all a bunch of meddlers.”
Kevin didn’t even attempt to deny it. “You know now—isn’t that what counts? Well, that and what you’re going to do about it. Any idea about that?”
Connor sighed. “Not a clue.”
Kevin’s expression brightened. “I have a thought or two.”
“Says the man who was not meddling,” Connor said. “Forget it, big brother. Keep your ideas to yourself. If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it. You might circulate that message to the rest of the family, as well.”
Kevin laughed. “You have to be kidding. You said it yourself, meddling is the family hobby. The only way you’re going to deal with Heather in private is if the two of you move cross-country.”
Connor thought of the shop Heather had just opened. It was as cozy and welcoming as their home had once been. He doubted she’d be open to abandoning it, and he was in no position to make such a suggestion anyway. What could he offer her except more of the same? Sadly, all of his vows came with conditions, conditions she could no longer accept.
And that meant they were at a stalemate, with no obvious solution in sight.
3
At six o’clock, with the last customer gone, Heather locked the shop’s front door and began counting her receipts for the day. Sales had been decent for this early in the season, but things were going to have to get a whole lot better if she was to pay the bills and support herself with this business.
At a tap on the front door, she looked up, expecting to see Shanna with the boys, but it was Connor who stood there, their son in his arms.
“Shanna got held up at the store, so Kevin picked up Davy and Henry. I said I’d bring little Mick to you.” He set his son down on the shiny wood floor.
Though he’d started walking weeks ago, when he wanted to move fast, Mick had reverted to crawling. Now he fell to all fours and shot across the room to grab on to her leg.
“Hi, big boy,” Heather said, scooping him up, then meeting Connor’s gaze. “Thanks. Anything else?”
“I thought maybe we could grab a bite to eat,” Connor said, hands shoved into his back pockets. He looked surprisingly vulnerable for a man who could command a courtroom and sway juror opinions.
“Why?” she asked.
“To catch up?”
It was more of a question than an answer, which again showed just how ill-at-ease he was. Heather smiled despite her determination to keep him at arm’s length. It would be way too easy to forget all about her resolve and drift back into a relationship with this man, a relationship that would go nowhere, not because they didn’t love each other but because he wouldn’t allow it. No matter how much it hurt, she had to keep reminding herself that what he was able to give wasn’t enough.
“Thanks, but I don’t think so,” she said softly.
“It’s a burger and some fries, not a lifetime commitment,” he protested.
“And isn’t that exactly the problem?” she replied. “Have dinner with your family, Connor, or a friend. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You and I are friends,” he said stubbornly. “I miss my best friend.”
“So do I,” she admitted, “but things aren’t that simple, Connor. Not anymore. What you’re offering just isn’t enough for me. I owe it to myself and little Mick not to settle for so little.”
“Friendships last a whole lot longer than most marriages,” he countered, as he had all too often in the past when defending his decision never to wed.
“Probably because friends are more forgiving than spouses,” Heather replied, as she had before. “Or because people don’t understand that they have to work at marriage. Relationships are never static. They have to evolve over time as the individuals in them change.”
Connor frowned. “You still believe in marriage, don’t you? Despite all the evidence you’ve seen that it never lasts or that people wind up being miserable, you still have this optimistic view that love can conquer everything.”
“I do,” she said. “I know I grew up with a lousy example in my own life, but that just made me want to try harder to be sure my own marriage is everything it can be. I know I have what it takes to get through the rough patches.”
“Then why not look at this as one of those rough patches and work through it?” he asked with apparent frustration.
“Toward what?” she asked reasonably. She waved her hand when he didn’t come up with an answer. “Never mind. We’ve been over all of this before. Why belabor it? I respect your decision, Connor. I just don’t agree with it.”
“I never lied to you, Heather,” Connor said, his voice again filled with frustration. “You knew how I felt almost from the day we met. I didn’t change the rules at the last minute.”
“I’m not accusing you of that. I just think it’s sad that you made such a rule based on what happened with your parents. They’ve gotten over the past. Why can’t you?” She tilted her head and studied him. “You know what I hope? I hope you don’t go through your entire life not taking chances, not grabbing on to life. If you keep holding a part of yourself back, never committing to anyone, it would be such a waste.”
“You act as if marriage is the only commitment that matters,” he said irritably. “It’s a piece of paper, Heather. That’s all. It’s only as strong as two people want it to be.”
“Oh, Connor,” she said, shaking her head sorrowfully. She knew he believed that, which was probably the saddest part of all. “We’re never going to agree about this. I think you should go. I have things to finish up in here, and then I have to feed little Mick and put him to bed.”
For a moment, he looked as if he might prolong the argument, but then he just gave her a curt nod and left.
“Daddy!” little Mick said mournfully, staring after him.
Heather hugged her son just a little bit tighter. “You’ll see Daddy again tomorrow, sport. Grandpa Mick and all your uncles will be there, too.”
Whether Connor was around or not, at least her son wouldn’t be lacking when it came to strong male role models. She just couldn’t help wishing that his daddy would be the most important one.
Rather than going home, Connor drove over to The Inn at Eagle Point, hoping to find his sister Jess there. Jess was younger, which meant she still thought he hung the moon, despite all evidence to the contrary.
Better yet, she was single, which meant she had little to say on the subject of his reluctance to wed the mother of his child. All of his other siblings were now so happily wed and starry-eyed, they could no longer seem to grasp his point of view. How they’d accomplished that given the example they’d all grown up with was beyond him.
He found Jess in the inn’s cluttered office with a mountain of paperwork spread out on the desk in front of her.
“This is what you do for excitement on a Saturday night?” he taunted, settling down in a chair and propping his feet on the desk.
“It is when it’s the end of the month and I haven’t touched any of these papers until now,” she said. “If Abby catches sight of this mess, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“I thought our big sister hired an accountant to take care of the bills,” Connor said, referring to Abby’s intervention a few years earlier to keep the inn from bankruptcy before it even got its doors open.
“She did, but there are still some things only I can handle,” Jess said with a sigh. “It’s the most boring part of the job.”
“Which is why you neglect it,” Connor guessed.
She nodded. “Exactly. At least you’re not blaming it on my attention deficit disorder,” she said. “Everyone else does. Any time I mess up, it’s because of the ADD. I’m tired of people using that as an excuse when I let things slide. Sometimes a screwup is just a screwup.”
“Are you referring to a specific mistake or yourself?” Connor asked, his gaze narrowing. “Because nobody calls my sister a screwup.”
She grinned. “Thanks, but sometimes that’s exactly what I am. I’m sure Abby would be happy to fill you in on all the ways I’ve messed up. I’ll bet she keeps lists.”
He hated hearing Jess talk about herself in such disparaging terms. She’d overcome a lot of difficulties to achieve everything she had. “In the end, though, you’ve made a success of the inn, Jess,” he reminded her. “You should be proud. All the rest of us are, Abby included.”
“Mostly I am,” she admitted, then sighed. “I suppose I’m just having those end-of-the-month blues tonight.”
She leaned back and propped her own feet on the desk. “So what brings you to town, especially on a Saturday night? Did you come to see Heather and your son? It’s about time, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“Honestly, I didn’t even know they’d moved here,” he admitted. “How awful is that? Heather never said a word.”
“She probably thought you wouldn’t be interested,” Jess said.
“Yeah, that’s what she said.”
“Are you? Interested, I mean?”
“If it were up to me, she and little Mick would still be living with me in Baltimore,” Connor said candidly, then sighed himself. “But I do understand why she bailed. I won’t give her the one thing she wants.”
“A ring on her finger?” Jess guessed.
“Exactly.”
“Is it about a ring or a commitment?”
Connor considered the question. “I’d say the ring. I was committed to her a hundred percent, and she knew it.”
“But don’t you see, Connor, the ring is proof of that,” Jess said, leveling a look at him he hadn’t expected. “I get where she’s coming from.”
Connor frowned. “I thought you’d be on my side.”
“Hey, I am always on your side,” she told him. “It doesn’t mean I can’t see another point of view. Plus, I actually get how women think, which is more than you can say or you wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“Then you think I should marry Heather?” he asked.
“Not if you don’t love her,” his sister responded at once, then grinned. “But I think you do.” She shrugged. “Then again, what do I know about that? My own experience with grand passion is seriously in need of a major overhaul. I haven’t stuck with anyone for more than a minute. It’s making Dad very nervous. One of these days he’s going to take on my love life and try to fix it. If you can keep him distracted from that with your situation for, say, another ten years, I’d appreciate it.”
Connor studied her with amusement. “Dad has someone in mind for you?”
“No one specific, but I’ve seen him looking long and hard at every single man who’s ever in the same room with me, weighing what kind of candidate they’d make.” She shuddered. “It’s embarrassing. I wouldn’t put it past him to come up with some kind of dowry to get me down the aisle.”
Connor gave her a thoughtful look. “You’ve got to be worth at least a couple of cows and a herd of sheep, don’t you think?”
She scowled at him. “You are not even remotely amusing.”
“Look, if you don’t want to risk Dad getting involved, then go find the man you want,” Connor said. “That’ll put a stop to it.”
“You say that as if it’s as easy as plucking the ripest, sweetest peach from a tree in mid-July. In this town the pickings are pretty slim.”
“You run an inn full of tourists,” he reminded her.
“Available men do not come to a romantic little seaside inn alone,” she replied. “Would you?”
Connor winced. “Now that you mention it, no. Okay, start offering packages for business meetings. The new golf course should be opening soon. I’ll bet you could attract a law firm, for instance, to come for a weekend of meetings and golf.”
Jess’s eyes immediately lit up. “That’s a great idea! I could design a special brochure advertising small corporate retreats, then send it to all of the law firms and other corporations in Baltimore and Washington.”
She shoved aside papers on her desk, found a notebook and jotted down notes, her brow knit in concentration. Connor might as well have been in Baltimore.
Eventually, his subtle cough caught her attention. She grinned sheepishly.
“Sorry. I got caught up in the idea. You should be proud, since it was yours. And you know I have to write everything down when it’s fresh, or it will have flown right out of my head by morning.”
“I’d sit right here and brainstorm with you all evening, but to be honest, I’m starved. Can I interest you in dinner?”
Her expression brightened. “Let’s go to Brady’s for crabcakes. Now that you’re a big-time lawyer, you can buy.”
“It’ll be mobbed on a Saturday night,” he protested. “We could just eat here. Word is you have a first-class chef.”
“Our kitchen’s already closed. We don’t stay open this late until the season kicks in. Don’t worry about getting into Brady’s, though. Dillon lets me sneak in the back way. Oh, he yells at me for doing it, but he hasn’t stopped me yet.”
“All because you introduced him to his wife,” Connor replied. He stood up. “Okay, let’s do it. We can sit in the bar and check out the other singles. Maybe one of us will get lucky.”
Jess patted his cheek. “You’re already luckier than any man has a right to be. You just need to wake up and see it.”
Connor groaned. “Are you really going to hop on this bandwagon, too?”
“Of course I am. I like Heather. I love your little boy. And you, big brother, should claim them before somebody else snaps them up.” She gave him an impish grin. “Not that I’m meddling, of course.”
“Of course,” he said wryly.
In the O’Brien family, everyone had an opinion, and not a one of them was shy about expressing it. More’s the pity.
Overnight the springlike weather had taken a turn back toward winter. Temperatures dropped, dark clouds rolled in and what started as rain on Sunday morning had turned to sleet by lunchtime. Heather thought about calling Megan to cancel, but she knew that not only would she be depriving Connor and their son of time together, but it would look as if she were running scared.
She had little Mick bundled up and was about to head out, when Connor appeared at the door.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, letting him step inside but no farther. It wasn’t just that he was soaked from the run from the car to her apartment. She didn’t want him in this new sanctuary of hers.
“The roads are getting slick. I didn’t want you to drive over to the house. I figured I’d pick you up.” He hunkered down in front of little Mick. “Hey, buddy, you ready to go to Grandpa’s?”
“Ga’pa,” little Mick echoed, nodding eagerly.
Even though Heather hated admitting it, the thoughtfulness of the gesture wasn’t lost on her. “Thanks, but it’s just a couple of miles, Connor. I’m sure it would have been fine. Besides, the car seat’s in my car.”
“I have one, too,” he said, shrugging at her look of surprise. “I got it awhile back. It just made sense so we wouldn’t have to transfer the one from your car to mine if little Mick’s with me.”
“You’re right. It does make sense. Okay, then, we’ll ride with you.”
Connor frowned at her. “Where’s your winter coat? It’s turned really cold out there. I wouldn’t be surprised if we had snow before tonight.”
“This late in March?”
“It can happen,” he insisted. “Grab a scarf, too. And some gloves. You never remember your gloves.”
Heather hid a smile as she dug in the closet for her warmer coat, scarf and the gloves that had somehow ended up on the floor instead of in her pockets. Connor was right. She rarely wasted time hunting for them. And he was always pestering her about them. It was one of so many little ways he’d tried to take care of her.
If she’d been keeping a ledger, the list of positives in their relationship would have covered pages, but even at that it couldn’t make up for the one huge negative—his refusal to consider marriage.
Water under the bridge, she told herself, following him to the car.
“What did you do last night?” she asked as they headed toward his house. “Did you spend time with your mother and father?”
He shook his head. “Jess and I went to Brady’s for dinner. It was jammed, so we wound up sitting in the bar.”
“Looking for singles?” she asked, knowing that the bar was often packed with the town’s available men and women on a weekend night.
Connor shot a hard look in her direction. “Would you care if we were?”
She thought about it. Truthfully, she absolutely hated the idea of Connor being with another woman or even looking at one, but how could she tell him that? She was the one who’d dumped him.
“Hey, you and Jess are young, attractive professionals. You’d both be great catches.”
“Do I detect a hint of reservation in there?” he pressed.
She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I don’t have a right to criticize anything you choose to do, Connor. We’re not together anymore.”
“But would it bother you if I started dating someone else right here in Chesapeake Shores?” he persisted.
She frowned at him. “Why are you pushing this? Does your ego need me to admit I’d hate it? Okay, I’d hate it, but we’re both going to move on eventually. That’s just the way it is.”
Now it was his turn to frown. “Are you seeing someone else?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said impatiently. “It’s not some sort of contest to see which of us will start dating first, Connor. I’ve barely had time to take a deep breath, much less think about meeting men. Do you have any idea how much work is involved in starting a business and keeping up with a one-year-old?”
He looked relieved by her response, but his tone was apologetic. “I guess it would be none of my business if you were dating,” he conceded, then regarded her miserably. “How did we get here, Heather? From the day we met, I never looked at another woman. You never looked at another man. Those feelings haven’t changed, and yet here we are, making small talk and asking about each other’s social life as if we’re barely casual acquaintances. We’re trying to act as if the answers don’t matter, when we both know they do.”
She heard the sorrow in his voice and found herself reaching over to touch his hand on the steering wheel. “We’ll always be more than casual acquaintances, Connor. We share a son, for one thing. But it’s going to take time to find our way with this new relationship. Sometimes it’s going to be awkward and messy and frustrating, but we have to find a way to make it work. I don’t want either of us to end up bitter and unable to be in the same room together.”
He sighed. “I don’t want that, either.”
She forced a smile. “You do know that the two of us turning up together today is going to set tongues wagging with your family, don’t you? Are you ready for that?”
“Hey, you’re the one living here now. You’ll have to deal with the nonstop pressure and meddling more than I will. Are you up to it?”
“I guess I’ll have to be.” Sobering, she met his gaze. “We made the right decision, Connor.”
“You’re the one who made the decision,” he corrected, his tone suddenly edged with annoyance. “Don’t lay this on me. I was happy with the way things were.”
“Sure, hiding me and your son from your family was working just fine for you,” she retorted sarcastically. “It meant no one except me could tell you what you were doing was wrong. And of course I couldn’t say a thing, either, because essentially I made a pact to play by your rules the day I agreed to move in with you.”
He frowned at the accusation. “Did I force you to move in?”
“Of course not. You just counted on me loving you so much, I wouldn’t be able to turn you down.”
“You never once said a word about being unhappy with our situation,” he complained. “Not even once.”
“And that’s all on me,” she agreed. “I weighed the options of living with you on your terms or without you, and I chose you. I don’t regret that, Connor. I really don’t. The years we spent together were amazing.”
“What changed?” he asked.
“When little Mick came along, I began to see things differently,” she conceded. “I wanted more for all of us.”
“You should have told me that,” he said.
“Oh, please. Every single time I tried to tell you what I was feeling, you’d get this look on your face as if I were betraying your trust, so I shut up,” she said. “And when I saw your attitude toward marriage getting darker and darker every day with every divorce case you handled, I had to accept that you were never going to change. That meant it was up to me to make a choice, and the only one that made sense for me was to move out and move on.”
She regarded him with real sorrow. “And just so you know, it wasn’t easy, and there are times when I regret it, but I still know in my heart it was the right thing to do.”
“Maybe for you,” he said grudgingly. “But what about our son? Was it best for him?”
“In the long run, it will be,” she insisted. “If you and I cooperate, he’ll grow up knowing we both love him.”
“The way all of us wound up knowing how Mom felt about us?” he scoffed. “We grew up thinking she’d abandoned us. Neither she nor Dad tried all that hard to show us otherwise.”
“Which is exactly why you and I will do everything we possibly can to make sure little Mick doesn’t feel abandoned by anyone,” Heather countered. “We have to try, Connor. We’re the grown-ups, and we can do this, because we both understand how important it is, right?”
He glanced over at her, then sighed. “Right,” he said with obvious reluctance.
He pulled up in front of the house. “I’ll let you out here with the baby, then park.”
Trying to inject a hint of humor into the suddenly somber mood, she teased, “You just don’t want to get caught walking in the door with us. You know I’m right about the hornet’s nest that will stir up.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “Yeah, that’s it.”
Again, she placed her hand over his. “We’re going to make this work,” she reassured him. “I don’t know how, but we will, because we have to.”
“Sure,” he said, though he sounded doubtful.
Heather hesitated, thinking she should say something more, something to put a real smile back on his face, but nothing came to mind. Because the one thing he wanted, for her to cave in and move back to Baltimore on his terms, was the one thing she could never agree to do. At least, not if she were to live with her conscience.
4
Thomas O’Brien wasn’t sure what had drawn him home to Chesapeake Shores, especially on such a dreary Sunday morning. Usually he confined his trips to the holidays and the occasional visit to his mother. Now that Nell was in her eighties, he tried to make those visits more frequently, but usually at a time when he wouldn’t have to deal with his brother Mick and the rest of the family. He and Mick could pick a fight in ten seconds flat on their best days. On their worst, they barely managed to exchange a civil word. Lately things were better, but he didn’t like pressing his luck.
Despite that concern, when he’d awakened this morning in his cramped apartment in Annapolis, Thomas had wanted to go home. Lately, he’d been feeling especially restless. His work with the foundation that studied the bay’s environment was frustrating and time-consuming, but his passion for it hadn’t waned. Most of the time, it was rewarding enough to keep him going through any rough patches. Usually it even filled the tremendous gaps in his social life since his last divorce.
Recently, though, he couldn’t help recognizing that something was missing from his life. In fact, every time he spent a few hours around Mick, now that Mick and Megan were back together, he could easily pin a label on it. He wanted a family of his own. Hanging around his older brothers—Mick and even Jeff and his family—reminded him of all that he’d missed out on while focusing on work. Both of his marriages had been so brief that he’d never considered children, and he was feeling that lack now more than ever before.
In truth, though he was only in his early fifties, he’d blown both marriages due to his obsession with environmental issues and protecting the bay that he loved. Lately, other than having an occasional drink with a coworker or one of the volunteers working on the foundation’s fundraising efforts, his personal life was deader than the bay’s waters had been a few years back. Now the ecosystem was slowly coming back into balance, but his life wasn’t.
When he knocked on Mick’s door, it was Megan who answered. She beamed at him and immediately dragged him inside.
“Get in here out of that nasty weather,” she said at once, her expression welcoming.
“You have room for one more at the table today?” he asked, lifting his sister-in-law off the floor in a bear hug.
“We always have room for you,” she assured him. “Why didn’t you call and let us know you were coming?” She grinned. “Or do I need to ask? Were you afraid Mick would tell you to stay away?”
Thomas laughed. “He can’t scare me away anymore. With our mother and you around, and Kevin working for me, I have allies here.”
“You certainly do,” Megan said. “Now come in. We’re just about to sit down, so your timing’s perfect.”
“Maybe I’d better find Mick first, so he doesn’t keel over in Ma’s pot roast at the sight of me.” He regarded her hopefully. “That is what we’re having, right? I thought I sniffed it in the air when you opened the door.”
“It is, indeed. Mick’s in the den. Go on in, while I start rounding up everyone else. That can take awhile when the kids are absorbed in one of those video games they seem to love.”
Thomas wandered down the hall to his brother’s den. He found Mick behind a closed door, puffing on a pipe.
“If Ma catches you in here with that thing, she’ll have a fit,” he taunted as he walked in. “She only put up with Pop smoking a pipe because she never could deny him anything. He always claimed it reminded him of being back in Ireland.”
“It does the same for me. It reminds me of the trips they took us on,” Mick said, while regarding him with surprise. “What brings you down here? You usually don’t show your face except on holidays.”
“Only time I know for a fact I’m welcome,” Thomas admitted. “Is it okay? Do you think you and I can be civil today?”
Mick shrugged. “That’s always an iffy proposition, but I think we’ve done a pretty good job of mending fences recently. You were there when I needed you when I was trying to get Megan to marry me again. I won’t forget that.”
“Of course you haven’t forgotten all of my sins from the past, either, have you?” Thomas said, referring to the fact that he’d taken the drastic step of turning Mick in to the authorities when he’d wanted to take some shortcuts in protecting the environment back when all three of them—he, Mick and Jeff—had been developing Chesapeake Shores.
“You’re right. I’m not likely to forget that,” Mick said. “But the truth is, now that I’ve had time to think things through, I admire the way you stood up for what you believed in, even if it was a darned nuisance at the time.”
Thomas stared at him incredulously. “You mean that?”
“I do, but I’ll call you a liar if you repeat it. The family enjoys thinking we’re at odds.”
“O’Briens do seem to enjoy their little feuds, don’t they?” Thomas agreed. “Have you seen Jeff lately?”
“Here and there around town. We’re not sitting around sipping coffee at Sally’s, if that’s what you’re asking. And he does manage our properties in the business district, though most of the time when I have questions about that, I ask his daughter. Susie’s a smart girl.”
“She is, indeed,” Thomas concurred. “Think she’ll ever marry that young man who claims he’s not dating her?”
“That’s a puzzler,” Mick said. “I’d have had them in church by now, but Jeff seems to be oblivious to the situation.” He gave Thomas a quizzical look. “So, why are you here? You didn’t come for a sparring match with me, did you? Was Ma’s pot roast the lure?”
“Truth be told, I was lonely,” Thomas admitted. “But if you tell anyone that, I’ll call you the liar.”
Mick’s expression registered surprise. “I’ve never heard you say such a thing before. What’s going on?”
“I woke up this morning and realized there wasn’t a single person in my life who cared what I was up to today,” he admitted with rare candor. “I hope you know how lucky you are.”
“Believe me, I know I’m blessed,” Mick said, eyeing him worriedly. “What you need is a woman in your life, maybe even kids. You’re not too old to have it all, if that’s what you want. I thought you were happily married to your work. Your wives certainly thought that, too.”
“It’s true. There’s no question that I sacrificed two good women to spend all my time with it,” Thomas lamented. “That doesn’t mean I don’t miss having a person to confide in, someone to share my bed or a laugh at the end of the day. You must have missed that when Megan was gone.”
“No question about it,” Mick agreed. “Neither of your ex-wives had remarried last I heard. Give ‘em a call.”
Thomas shook his head. “It’s a rare thing to be able to go back again. You and Megan have pulled it off, and believe me, I envy you for that, but it won’t work for me. Those ties are good and broken. My own fault, too.”
“Well, surely there are available women in Annapolis who’d jump at the chance to go out with you. You’ve a successful career. And you have those handsome O’Brien genes, so you’re not too hard on the eyes. If you need a little coaching when it comes to charm, I could give you a few tips.”
Thomas laughed. “Charm is not my problem. Neither is a lack of abundance of available women.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I just haven’t found the right one,” he told his brother. “And since she’s unlikely to be sitting at your dining room table, we should probably let this drop for now. Ma’s pot roast and your family’s company will be enough to console me for one more day. Thanks for not tossing me back out your door.”
Mick threw an arm around his shoulder as they left the den. “Ma wouldn’t allow it,” he said. “And if it comes down to it, I wouldn’t want to try.”
Thomas savored the rare moment of peace between them. Coming here today had been the best decision he’d made in a while, even if it meant going home knowing just how much his own life was lacking.
Somehow Heather had ended up at the dining room table sandwiched between Connor and Mick, who’d ceded his usual spot at the head of the table to his brother Thomas. She cast a desperate look across the table in Shanna’s direction, but Kevin’s wife only grinned. Next to her, Connor squirmed, which proved he was no more comfortable about the situation than she was.
Mick passed her a plate of home-baked yeast rolls, the kind few people bothered to make anymore.
“Have two,” he encouraged her. “You need to put on a couple of pounds. Chasing after that son of yours requires stamina.”
“Heather looks just fine, Dad,” Connor contradicted. “Leave her alone.”
“I’m just saying, she should keep up her strength, especially when she doesn’t have a man around to help her out,” Mick countered.
“Lots of single women manage careers and kids just fine,” Heather said, but neither man paid a bit of attention. They scowled at each other over her head.
“You making ends meet with your shop?” Mick asked.
Heather flushed. “It’s doing better each week.”
“You need to speak up if you need anything,” Mick said. “I’ll see that you have it. You’re part of this family now, even if your name’s not O’Brien. That boy of yours has O’Brien blood.”
Connor started to rise out of his chair, but a warning glance from his grandmother had him sitting back down. “Dad,” he said tightly, “if Heather and little Mick need anything, I’ll take care of it. They’re not your concern.”
Mick scowled at him. “Family’s family,” he responded flatly. “No matter how they came to be that way.”
Sensing that an explosion was just seconds away, Heather looked from one man to the other. “My son and I are just fine. If we need help from anyone, I know how to ask for it. Now, why don’t we enjoy this meal that Nell has made. The pot roast is delicious.”
“It is, indeed,” Thomas chimed in enthusiastically. “Ma, you still make the best pot roast I’ve ever tasted.”
“And I want you to teach me, Gram,” Bree said. “Jake says I’m a disaster in the kitchen.”
“You don’t have any patience,” Nell told her. “And it’ll only get worse once you have that baby you’re carrying. You won’t have two seconds to concentrate on the meal you’re preparing.”
“Now that’s discouraging,” Jake said with an exaggerated groan.
Nell gave him a chiding look. “Stop your complaining. That baby is yours, young man. And I’ll see to it the two of you don’t starve to death, the same way I did around here when Megan had her hands full with all of you.”
Bree grinned. “Thanks, Gram.”
Abby had listened to the exchange quietly, then turned to her grandmother. “You haven’t offered to set foot in my kitchen,” she said, feigning a pout. “I’m a working mother, too.”
“With a husband who works at home,” Gram said. “And a nanny.” She wagged a finger at the rest of them. “Don’t any of you be getting ideas about this. I’m not providing meals on wheels at this stage of my life. One of these days, I expect somebody to take over these Sunday dinners as well.”
Heather laughed at the audible groans from around the table.
“Please don’t let it be Mom,” Kevin pleaded.
Megan looked up at the comment, chuckling. “Little chance of that, I assure you. Like Bree, I can probably keep us from starving, and maybe not even poison anybody along the way, but it won’t be anything like Nell’s meals. I vote we nominate and train someone else.” She turned her gaze to Kevin. “Didn’t you have to prepare meals for a crowd when you were an EMT? There’s nothing that says a man can’t take over these family meals, right?”
Kevin looked a little pale. “Now, hold on here,” he began, but Shanna was already nodding. “He makes a terrific spaghetti and meatballs, and his lasagna’s not bad, either.”
Mick scowled at his older son. “Where’d you learn to cook, boy? At the Gianellis’? You didn’t learn Italian cooking from Ma, I guarantee that.”
“Hey, you put me in the kitchen, you eat what I know how to cook,” Kevin retorted.
Heather chuckled at the exchange. There was something about this family that never failed to enchant her. Growing up as an only child, she’d envisioned scenes just like this one. And here she was, in the middle of one of them … yet not quite a part of it.
She risked a glance toward Connor and saw that he was studying her, sympathy in his eyes. He knew how much she’d wanted this, understood what moments like this meant to her. And yet he’d still denied her the right to claim this family as her own. Even if they’d stayed together on his terms, she’d have felt like an outsider here, no matter how welcoming everyone tried to be.
Suddenly fighting tears, she pushed back her chair, murmured an excuse, then fled the dining room.
Grabbing her coat from the hall closet, she went outside and ran across the yard, oblivious to the rain. Standing on the edge of the cliff, she studied the pounding white-caps on the normally placid bay. The tumult matched the feelings roiling inside of her.
“Heather?”
Connor, of course. She turned to find him holding her scarf, her gloves and an umbrella. It was almost enough to put a smile back on her face. Almost, but not quite.
“You should come back inside,” he said, a worried frown on his face.
She shook her head. She didn’t want to face the curious stares or the unspoken questions about what had upset her. She saw the same puzzlement on Connor’s face, even though he should have known exactly what sent her running from the house.
“Want me to drive you home?” he asked. “I can bring the baby back later.”
She regarded him gratefully. “Would you mind?”
“If that’s what you really want, I’ll be happy to take you.”
“It’s what I want,” she said at once.
“Okay, then,” he said, though he looked vaguely disappointed.
He led the way to his car, settled her inside, then turned on the heater. It was mostly a wasted effort, since they’d be at her apartment before it warmed up much. They rode in silence for the few minutes it took to reach the alley that ran behind the shops and apartments.
“I’m sorry,” he said as she was about to open the door.
She paused and met his gaze. “For?”
He seemed to be struggling to find the words. “I know how badly you wanted to be part of a big family. It must be hard to be there in the middle of mine.”
She nodded. “It just makes me think about what could have been, that’s all. Don’t blame yourself. It’s not as if you dangled some promise in front of me and then yanked it away.”
He shook his head. “But in a way, that’s exactly what I did, and I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
Heather sighed. “I know that. Sometimes things just happen. I should go inside, and you need to get back. Please apologize to everyone for me.”
“No apology necessary. I’ll see you in a couple of hours, okay? I’ll wait till after the baby has his nap before I bring him home. That way you’ll have time to get some rest, too.”
“I’ll probably go downstairs,” she said. “I need to catch up on some things in the shop.”
“You need rest more,” he said.
“Looking after me isn’t your job any longer,” she told him, trying to protect herself from the way his caring made her feel. It might be an illusion, but she felt cherished.
He shrugged. “I can’t help it. Old habits are hard to break. I’ll bring some leftovers when I come. You barely touched your meal, and you completely missed dessert. Word is it’s Gram’s apple pie. There’s none better. I’ll bring you a slice.”
She chuckled. “You’re no better than your dad, you know. You’re trying to fatten me up.”
Connor winced at the comparison, then shrugged it off. “I’m bringing the pie, and I’m going to sit right here while you eat every bite. You’ll thank me later.”
The temptation to slide over and kiss him was suddenly so overwhelming, Heather forced herself to throw open the car door and bolt without responding. Only after she was upstairs in her apartment, with the door safely locked behind her, did she release the breath she’d been holding.
Heaven help her! When an O’Brien turned on the charm and showed his soft, caring side, what mortal woman could possibly resist? And yet somehow, she knew she had to. Her future depended on it.
When Connor had seen Heather standing on the edge of the cliff with rain soaking her, he’d wanted desperately to sweep her into his arms and carry her into the house, into his bed and spend the rest of the afternoon warming her up with his body heat. He’d settled for handing her gloves and scarf to her and holding an umbrella over her head because he’d known she would allow no more. Her wary gaze had been a warning to tread carefully.
Driving away from her apartment just now, knowing she was upset and that he was responsible, had been just as hard.
But neither of those things prepared him for walking back into his house and facing down the judgmental stares of his entire family.
“Where’s Heather?” Megan asked, her expression filled with concern.
“I drove her home,” he told his mother. “She apologizes for running out. She wasn’t feeling well.”
“Feeling left out, more than likely,” Mick said, showing surprising insight for a man who was usually oblivious to subtleties.
From across the table, Abby scowled at him. “Connor, I just don’t understand why you’re being so pigheaded. Anyone can see that you love this woman.”
“I do,” he agreed readily. “It’s not enough.”
“Well, of course it’s not,” Mick said with undisguised disgust. “She had your baby. She has a right to expect you to make an honest woman of her. That’s what I expect from you, too.” He frowned at Connor. “And I don’t want to hear any more of this garbage about not believing in marriage.”
“Well, I don’t,” Connor said belligerently, turning to the rest of his family. “No offense intended to those of you who do. You get to live your lives the way you want to. Show me the same courtesy.”
“Even if your stance is costing you the woman you claim to love and your son?” Thomas asked mildly. “Everyone here just wants to see you happy. If you can tell us that you are, then God bless.”
“Well?” Mick prodded, picking up where Thomas had left off. “Let’s hear how happy you are.”
Connor remained stubbornly silent. Only the knowledge that bolting from the room would be an act of cowardice kept him in place.
“Enough,” his grandmother said. “Connor has to find his own way, the same as the rest of you have. Megan, Jess, why don’t you clear the table, and I’ll bring out the pie and ice cream.”
Relieved to have a reprieve, Connor sighed. Kevin gave him an amused look.
“You don’t actually think you’re off the hook, do you?” his big brother asked.
“I was hoping,” Connor admitted.
“Not likely,” Trace told him.
“In fact, something tells me the crowd’s just getting warmed up,” Jake added.
Sensing unity, Mick gave him a benevolent look. “You won’t win this one, Connor. Marry the woman.”
“Even if I think marriage inevitably leads to heartache?” he asked. “Even though I see proof of that every single day?” He turned to his uncle. “What about you? Back me up here. You’ve divorced twice. You know a piece of paper doesn’t guarantee anything.”
Thomas gave him a pitying look. “Being married was the happiest time of my life. I loved both of my wives. You won’t find me arguing against the potential joy of marriage. When it works, it’s worth every bit of struggle it takes to get it right.”
“And yet, here you are, with us on a Sunday afternoon,” Connor retorted.
“And I’d give anything to have it otherwise,” Thomas said. “I’d go back to either one of my wives, if they’d have me, but sadly I burned those bridges. If the opportunity arises and I find another woman to love, it won’t take me but a minute to take that walk down the aisle again.”
“Don’t say that in front of Gram,” Kevin warned. “You know how she feels about divorce because of the church. In her eyes, Dad and Mom were never divorced in the first place, so that wedding they had back on New Year’s Eve was nothing but a renewal of vows. She’s probably lighting candles right and left for you after two divorces.”
Thomas grimaced. “Believe me, I’ve heard Ma’s opinion on the subject more than once. I’m just saying that when it comes to marriage, I’m a believer. People were meant to go through life with a partner at their side who loves them unconditionally.”
“Yet another triumph of hope over reality,” Connor said cynically.
Again, Thomas’s expression was filled with pity. “What do any of us have if we don’t have hope?” he asked. “Why, even at the bottom of Pandora’s box, there was hope.”
Connor glanced around the table, looking for an ally, but everyone there was nodding at Thomas’s remark. Abby grinned at him.
“You’re outnumbered, little brother. Give in gracefully.”
“Never,” he said out of habit. Let them all live their lives blinded to the pitfalls of marriage. He wasn’t going to fall into that trap. For every happy couple they could point to, even in this room, he could find another five who were miserable. If they spent even a day in his office, listening to one tale of misery and heartbreak after another, they’d be stripped of these rose-colored glasses they were wearing.
“Live in your dream world,” he told them, standing up. “I’m going upstairs to check on my son.”
“You’ll miss Gram’s pie,” Bree said, looking shocked. “You never miss Gram’s pie.”
“The peace and quiet will be worth the sacrifice,” he declared. “Just be sure there’s a slice left over for me to take to Heather later.”
A grin spread across his sister’s face, as she patted her belly. “But I can have yours, right? After all, I’m eating for two.”
Despite his sour mood, Connor chuckled. “It’s all yours, Bree, as long as Jake thinks he can roll you home after lunch.”
“I’ve got it covered,” Jake said, sliding an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “That’s why I brought along the wheelbarrow.”
Bree poked him in the ribs. “You’ll pay for that.”
Connor regarded them triumphantly. “See what I mean? A couple of ill-considered words here and there, and even the happiest marriage can teeter on the brink.”
Bree gazed up at her husband with a totally smitten expression. “I don’t think you have to worry about that with us, little brother. We’re in this for the duration.”
“Amen to that,” Jake agreed, kissing her soundly. “The occasional spat or even a poke in the ribs just livens things up.”
A grin spread across Bree’s face. “We get lively all the time.”
“Which is how she ended up pregnant,” Jake said.
Connor listened to the exchange, expecting to hear a false note, something to indicate that things weren’t as rosy as Bree and Jake would have everyone believe. Apparently they were exactly as they appeared to be, blissfully happy.
And he was happy for them. He really was, even if it put a tiny nick in his rock-solid theory. After all, every rule had its exceptions.
5
After drying off and changing her clothes, Heather went downstairs to the store just as she’d told Connor she’d planned to do. Truthfully, her motivation was less about the work that needed to be done than it was about not being in her apartment when Connor returned with little Mick. Right now that apartment was her haven, someplace with no memories whatsoever of Connor. It was exactly what she needed if she was to have her fresh start.
If Connor visited, even for a few minutes, there was a huge risk that it could change the way she felt about her new home. She’d have to grapple with images of him being there, seated, if only for moments, on her new sofa. His scent might linger in the cushions. It was hard enough to keep him out of her head as it was. That’s why she hadn’t let him past the threshold when he’d arrived unexpectedly earlier.
Downstairs, she spent an hour on paperwork, opened a box of new fabric and put the bolts on display, then found herself at loose ends. She picked up the quilt she’d promised to make for Megan, another Chesapeake Shores scene, this time of the family’s home overlooking the bay. She’d worked on simplifying the design for days, using photos to get not only the images she wanted but the colors that would capture the scene. She’d assembled her fabrics and started the work during lulls in business the day before.
Though she’d made several traditional quilt patterns over the years, she found special satisfaction and creative freedom in doing this kind of folk art quilt. If Megan was right about her talent, these would distinguish her shop from any others in the immediate region.
And if she decided to do custom scenes for her customers, she could probably charge even more for them. Or she could assemble a collection of such quilts and even have a show. She could do it right here, or she could have a more formal showing next door at Megan’s increasingly respected art gallery. That could boost prices even higher, she suspected, still a bit stunned by Megan’s assessment of her quilts’ worth.
Sitting in a rocker she’d placed near the front window for better lighting, she pieced together a section of the O’Brien house with the kind of tiny, neat stitches she’d learned from her mother.
As always, any thought of Bridget Donovan filled her with nostalgia. How had they let things get so far off track? Of course it was because they’d both taken strong positions from which there was no backing down, pretty much the way she and Connor had done.
Ironically, she’d always thought herself capable of reason and compromise. Maybe, though, when something mattered so much, there was no room for compromise.
She wondered how her mother would feel if she knew that Heather had left Connor. Would she rejoice, or would she find it one more thing to criticize? There was no way to know without picking up the phone or going for a visit, and Heather simply wasn’t ready to do either. Not yet, anyway. She needed to get her feet back under her, to establish herself in her new life. Then, perhaps, she could withstand one of her mother’s pointed interrogations or her father’s disappointed looks.
A tap on the front door had her glancing up to spot Connor with their son in his arms. She put aside the quilt and let them in. Connor set little Mick down in his playpen, where he was immediately absorbed with his toys. Connor nodded toward the fabric she’d had in her lap.
“You working on something new?”
“It’s for your mother,” she said. “She admired another one of my quilts, so I’m doing something similar for her. It’s not very far along, though.”
Connor walked over and took a closer look, then turned to her with a surprised expression. “It’s our house!”
Heather grinned. “Thank goodness you recognized it. You have no idea what a relief that is.”
“It’s actually amazing. Have you done others like this? I only remember when you worked on the one that’s hanging in the window.”
“That’s a more traditional design,” she explained. “It’s the kind of quilt you’d find in a beach cottage, I think. At least that’s your mother’s theory, and I have sold several to the weekenders who have homes here. They love the old-fashioned look and feel of the cottage quilts, and they’re perfect for the old iron and brass beds so many people have found in antique shops in the area.”
“Did you make them all?” he asked. “When on earth did you find the time?”
She laughed. “Heavens, no. I’m not that fast. I’ve found several excellent Amish quilt-makers in the area, and I’ve bought quite a few quilts from them. So far I’ve resisted buying the machine-made quilts, but I may have to if I can’t keep up with demand.”
A frown knit his brow. “Can you make enough money selling quilts?”
She shrugged. “I hope so, but I’m also starting classes. Not only do I have several people signed up already, but they’ll all need supplies. And I’ve put out some flyers, so word’s getting around that I have fabric available, and a lot of women have been coming in to buy patterns and fabric for their own quilt projects.”
He hesitated, then said, “I suppose I have no right to say this, but I’m proud of you, Heather. Clearly you’re excited about this and have a vision to make it succeed.”
Heather was pleased by his approval. “Keep your fingers crossed that it goes well, or I’ll wind up back in a classroom.”
She was half-joking, but Connor apparently took her seriously.
“Would that be so awful? The schools around here won’t be as tough as the ones in Baltimore,” he said. “It would be a whole different experience. Don’t you have regrets about wasting your college degree?”
“Not really,” she said candidly. “I never felt about teaching the way I do when I walk in here every morning, knowing this business is mine. Connor, I doubt you can imagine what that’s like, to discover something you’re passionate about and turn it into a career. I never imagined that my love of quilting could be anything more than a hobby, yet here I am.”
He frowned. “You don’t think I understand that kind of passion? It’s exactly how I feel about law.”
Heather regarded him with skepticism. “I’m not a hundred percent certain about that.”
“Meaning?”
“To be honest, I’ve always thought you liked law as a way to get even, not as a way to ensure justice.”
He looked taken aback by the comment. “You don’t think much of me, do you?”
She saw the hurt in his eyes and regretted being so candid. “Oh, Connor, it’s not that. I love you. That’s why it’s so hard to see what you’re doing to yourself with the kind of cases you take. I know it sounds dramatic, but I almost feel as if you’re selling your soul.”
“The cases I take—and win, by the way—will get me a partnership in a very prestigious law firm, which means you and our son will never want for anything,” he responded defensively.
“I appreciate that you want to support little Mick, but we could get by on less. I’d rather have you truly happy.”
“You could ensure that if you’d just come home,” he said, then waved off the remark before she could respond. “Never mind.” He regarded her with resignation. “I know that’s not happening, not now that you’ve apparently made a new life for yourself here.”
He looked for an instant as if he wanted to say more, maybe even to plead his case once again. Heather waited, wondering if he was about to take a step closer and kiss her the way he might have done a few months ago. His kisses, always intoxicating, always persuasive, never failed to move her.
But the joy and contentment she found in his arms was fleeting. Once her feet touched down on solid ground again, she had to face the same reality. She and Connor were as close as they would ever be. They couldn’t grow together as married couples did.
Instead of reaching for her now, though, he backed away. He shoved his hands in his pockets as if he feared making a move that would be rebuffed.
“I suppose I should get on the road,” he said. “I have some case files I need to go through tonight.”
“More divorces, of course,” she said. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted the bitter, judgmental tone of them.
As she’d expected, his expression immediately turned defensive again. “Of course. That’s the kind of law I do.”
“And you’re very good at it,” she admitted. “Your clients are lucky to have you. I just think it’s sad to be surrounded by people who are so miserable and embittered.”
He held her gaze, tried to make his case. “Heather, don’t you get it? People who are going through a tough time emotionally need to have someone in their corner they can count on to protect their interests.”
“Of course I get that,” she said. “But it’s as hard on you as it is on them. Every time you get caught up in their stories, you become more and more disillusioned about marriage.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said impatiently. “I’m the objective outsider, remember?”
She smiled wearily at the characterization. “If only that were true.”
“It is true,” he insisted.
“No, Connor, you take every case personally and add it to that mental ledger you keep as proof that marriage can’t work. Tell me, whose side are you on these days? Always the husband’s? Or have you started taking the wives as clients, at least some of the time?”
He seemed thrown by the question. “Most of my clients are men. What’s your point?”
“That in every single instance, you’re still trying to get payback for what you believe your mother did to your father all those years ago. As I said earlier, you’re still that little boy trying to get revenge because his mom walked out on his dad and on him.”
“That’s absurd!”
She held his gaze. “Is it?”
He was the first to blink. “I’m not having this discussion again,” he said finally. “I need to get on the road.”
She let the subject drop and nodded. “Drive safely.”
At the door, he hesitated again, looking torn, but then he walked out without another word. Heather stared after him and sighed.
Forget their fractured relationship, she thought. How could he not see that as long as he focused his law career on disintegrating marriages, he’d never find the kind of happiness he deserved?
One of little Mick’s toys landed at her feet just then. Relieved by the distraction, she laughed as she walked over to his playpen and picked him up.
“Tired of being ignored?” she teased, holding him close.
“Mama,” he said, patting her face.
She breathed in the scent of baby shampoo and powder. “No matter how bad things are for your daddy and me,” she told her boy, “I have you, and that’s the greatest gift anyone could ever have given me. I will always love your daddy because of that.”
“Da?” Mick said, looking hopefully toward the door.
“He’ll be back soon,” she promised. And she had to figure out how she was going to prepare herself for the next encounter, because clearly they weren’t getting one bit easier.
Thoroughly disgruntled by the parting conversation he’d had with Heather and by the way his family seemed to have accepted Heather and his son into their lives, Connor returned to Baltimore determined not to give any of them another thought. He had plenty of work to keep him occupied, including a couple of high-profile cases that were going to be very complicated and messy.
In fact, first thing Monday morning he had an appointment with a film director who’d been working on location in Baltimore, had established a residence here and then moved the movie’s star in to share the place with him. Naturally the tabloids had gotten wind of it. The director’s wife back in Los Angeles had been furious about the publicity, if not about the infidelity, and intended to take him apart in the divorce. Despite the man’s egregious behavior, Connor didn’t intend to let her get one penny more than she deserved.
To be honest, he’d taken the case more for its publicity value than out of any desire to defend the man’s bad behavior. If he could keep Clint Wilder from being taken to the cleaners, it would seal his status as the top divorce attorney in the region. He’d make partner at the law firm by the end of the year for sure.
Even as the thought occurred to him, he remembered Heather’s disdain for his motives. Okay, she was right, at least to an extent. But what was wrong with wanting to be successful? Wasn’t that what most people wanted, to be the best at whatever career they’d chosen?
Still, on Monday morning as he listened to Wilder’s side of the mostly sordid tale, he couldn’t help thinking what Heather’s reaction would be. She’d be horrified that Connor would take the husband’s side over his wife’s. Connor had a momentary twinge about it himself, especially as Wilder boasted that it wasn’t the first time he’d slept with the leading lady in his films, just the first time his wife had gotten wind of it and been publicly humiliated.
“I don’t know what she expected,” the director said, sounding genuinely bewildered. “She stays at home with the kids. What am I supposed to do? Look, just offer her the house, support money for the kids and some kind of monthly alimony. Make it all go away.”
He handed Connor a piece of paper with some suggested figures. Connor glanced at them and shook his head. Even by his usually conservative standards, these would never fly. Not when this man made millions.
“Look, I’ll do what I can, but it may not be so easy to make this go away. You’ve been married a long time, and this isn’t the first time you’ve strayed. Her lawyer could rip you apart. If she gets a sympathetic judge, you’ll wind up paying three or four times this amount.”
The director leveled a look at him that probably intimidated every actor on his set. “Don’t let that happen,” he said quietly. “Understand?”
Connor nodded. All he could do was offer his best advice. In the end, it was his client’s decision. “I’ll be back in touch as soon as I’ve spoken to your wife’s lawyer.”
“Tell that little weasel I have plenty of dirt of my own I can throw at her,” Wilder told him. “If he wants to get tough, I’ll be tougher, and I’ll walk away with the house and the kids. She’ll wind up with nothing. She was barely one step out of the gutter when I met her, and I can see that she winds up back there.”
Connor felt his blood turn cold at the man’s vicious words. For all of his go-for-the-jugular tactics, he still clung to at least some sense of respect for women. Sadly, though, he had dealt with enough men who thought their own behavior should be exempt from scrutiny to recognize a man willing to play hardball. Usually he liked having the kind of leverage necessary to make the other side squirm. Maybe because of last night’s conversation with Heather, today he was the one squirming. The whole thing suddenly seemed so darn sleazy and cruel.
Ironically, it wasn’t Heather’s face he saw in his head, but Gram’s. He heard her reminding him over and over that Megan deserved his respect, even when he was angriest at what she’d done to the family. Gram would be appalled by Clint Wilder, a man willing to publicly sully his wife’s reputation out of greed.
In the end, though, Connor knew he would win for the director in court, because that’s what he did. But for the first time, at the end of the day, he didn’t feel entirely good about it.
When the firm’s senior partner, Grayson Hudson, walked into his office and asked about the case later, Connor shrugged. “It’ll get a lot of publicity,” he said, as if that were all that mattered.
“Just make sure the firm looks good,” Grayson told him. “You’re very good at what you do, Connor. That’s why I used you myself when Cynthia and I split up. But your tendency to go for broke can stir up sympathy for the other side. You make sure that man’s wife isn’t going to come through this looking like Mother Teresa, you hear?”
Connor thought about Wilder’s veiled references to his wife’s past. “Doubtful, sir,” he said confidently.
“Just do your homework, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Not to worry. I always do.”
After all, Connor reflected, wasn’t he the one who was known in his family for having very little faith in the human race? He left next to nothing to chance. Even though he had Clint Wilder’s word that his wife had skeletons in her closet, he’d put a private detective to work checking her background within five minutes of the man walking out of his office. He wasn’t about to enter a mediation room or a courtroom without knowing everything there was to know about the other side.
Using the dirt, though? That was another matter and one he had no idea how he would handle.
Though he was immersed in work, Connor still wasn’t able to keep Heather out of his head. Every time he drew up a line of attack in another case, he heard her voice questioning his tactics and his motives. It was getting annoying.
In fact, just being unable to get her out of his head was annoying. The only way he could think of to change that was to put his social life on a fast track.
For the next couple of weeks, he spent his evenings hitting every bar in town with various colleagues from his law firm. Though he met plenty of attractive, intelligent professional women, not a one of them held a candle to Heather. Her image haunted him.
He reached for the phone a half-dozen times a day, tempted to call so he could hear the sound of her voice. He even had a built-in excuse, wanting to get updates on their son. It was downright pitiful that he even considered resorting to that.
In the end, he resisted because he knew she’d see through the excuse. Anyone in his family could tell him what was going on with little Mick. It wouldn’t take frequent calls to Heather to learn how his son was doing. Besides, she left him regular messages herself. They were too short, too unsatisfactory. What he needed was a real conversation.
His inability to get on with his life clearly meant that he needed to try harder.
The next woman he met, he asked on a date, then spent an evening in one of Baltimore’s finest restaurants being bored out of his mind. It seemed all she cared about was whether he’d met any of the stars in Clint Wilder’s movie. He repeated the pattern for another couple of weeks, then finally conceded he was wasting his time.
On the Saturday morning of Easter weekend, he got in his car and drove once again to Chesapeake Shores, using the excuse that it had been too long since he’d seen his son. He somehow managed to blame Heather for that, even though several of her messages had included an offer to bring little Mick for a visit.
When he arrived at the house, he found Gram in the kitchen with all of the kids coloring Easter eggs. Though the room was a disaster and Gram looked harried, her eyes were twinkling when she spotted him. She handed off his son, who clung happily to his neck. The boy’s smile of delight at Connor’s arrival immediately improved his mood.
“Get out of those fancy clothes and come in here to help me,” Gram commanded. “If I’m not careful, I’m going to wind up with my hair dyed pink.”
“It would be beautiful,” Caitlyn told her solemnly.
“We can do mine, too,” Carrie said. “But I want blue.” She danced around. “Don’t you think I’d be beautiful?”
“Gorgeous,” Connor agreed, laughing. He felt lighter than he had in days. His twin nieces, with their unexpected observations and uncensored comments, could lift his spirits in a heartbeat. Spending time with them and the rest of the family was exactly what he’d needed.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised his grandmother.
Taking little Mick with him, he changed into an old T-shirt and a pair of cutoff jeans, then hurried back to the kitchen and settled his son in a high chair.
“How’d you get roped into doing this?” he asked Gram.
“Everyone’s working today,” she explained. “It’s a busy weekend in town, so Shanna, Heather, Bree and your mother are all at their shops. Abby went to help Bree deliver flowers. It seems everybody in the universe is sending an Easter bouquet to someone in Chesapeake Shores this weekend.”
“Where’s Dad?”
“Mick took one look at the mess in here and mumbled something about checking on one of his Habitat for Humanity sites.” She chuckled. “I’ll have my revenge, though. Once we’re finished, I can walk off and leave this for him to clean up. That’s the joy of being able to go back to my own place these days. Now, you help your son. He doesn’t quite have the knack for dying eggs, instead of his hands.”
“Help me, too, Uncle Connor,” Davy pleaded.
Henry, who was still adjusting to this boisterous new family of his, stood back, looking on shyly.
Connor plucked three boiled eggs from a basket on the table. “Come on, guys, let a master show you how it’s done. Each of you grab a crayon. We’ll draw on a design first, okay?”
The designs weren’t much, but it hardly mattered. Connor guided little Mick’s tiny fingers as they drew a barely recognizable duck. Davy drew something that looked like Santa, though turned upside down it could have been a bunny. It was impossible to tell and probably risky to ask.
Connor glanced over to check on his other nephew, Kevin’s adopted son. Henry printed his name with careful letters, then thoughtfully did two more eggs for Kevin and Shanna. It hurt Connor’s heart to see how hard the boy was trying to fit in with his new family. All the caution was his. Kevin and Shanna, who’d been Henry’s stepmother in a previous marriage, adored Henry. And Davy was thrilled to have a big brother.
Henry glanced hesitantly at Connor. “Do you think I should do one for my dad, too? I sent him and my grandpa and grandma a card already. Shanna helped me pick it out.”
“If you want to make an egg for your dad, we’ll find a way to get it to him,” Connor promised, trying to imagine how hard it must be to be separated from his biological family because his father’s alcoholism and failing liver had made it impossible for Henry to remain with him.
Henry’s little face immediately brightened. “Cool!”
In the meantime, Carrie and Caitlyn were drawing elaborate patterns with bright colors, then dipping the eggs into the brightest dyes.
“Ours are best!” Carrie announced, jumping up and down.
“It’s not a contest,” Gram chided.
“That’s right,” Connor told her. “The contest comes tomorrow, when we see who can find the most eggs in the yard.” He tickled his boastful niece. “And I guarantee you I’ll win.”
“You’re too big to play,” Caitlyn said, dodging his attempt to tickle her. “Only kids get to hunt for eggs.”
“Hey, I’m a kid,” Connor protested.
“Are not,” Carrie said, giggling.
“Oh, honey, I’m afraid your uncle Connor is just a big kid,” Gram said sorrowfully. “I haven’t seen a sign of maturity yet.”
“Hey,” he protested.
“I doubt you want me to explain all my reasons for feeling that way,” Gram said, her gaze steady.
Connor sighed. “No need.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Maybe I’ll get my boy here cleaned up and take him back to his mother,” he said.
“That sounds like a fine idea to me,” Gram said approvingly. “Be sure she’s going to join us for Easter dinner tomorrow after church.”
Connor nodded. Somehow the prospect of issuing that invitation to a simple family gathering and getting the hoped-for “yes” held more allure than all those endless bar crawls and dates he’d been on for the past few weeks.
And spending a carefree afternoon dying Easter eggs with his son, his nieces and his nephews was a thousand times better than dealing with the Clint Wilders of the world. Apparently, despite Heather’s oft-stated fears, he hadn’t gone so far over to the dark side yet that he couldn’t see that.
6
During Connor’s absence over the past few weeks, Heather had once again been able to establish a new rhythm for her life and put him out of her mind. Her days were occupied with the store, getting to know her regular customers, even making a few friends among them, and keeping her son out of mischief. Nights were harder, when the darkness settled around her and the brand-new bed she’d purchased felt too big, too empty.
Of course, there were reminders everywhere. For one thing, her son looked exactly like his daddy and his grand-daddy, but she’d gotten better and better at keeping the two separate in her head. Little Mick was her life now. Connor was her past. She just needed to keep reminding herself of that. She assured herself she was getting better at it every day.
Unfortunately, though, there was more she couldn’t control. Connor’s family tended to pop up everywhere she turned. It was both a blessing and a curse.
Still, with every day that passed, she felt herself growing stronger, her initially uncertain resolve deepening into real conviction that she was on the right path with her life. Everything was falling into place just as she’d hoped.
And yet, all it took to change her perspective was one quick, unexpected glimpse of Connor in the doorway of her shop, holding their exhausted son in his arms. Her resolve immediately turned to mush, and her traitorous heart skipped several beats.
Why did the man have to look so darn good, even with his thick hair mussed and his rumpled clothes apparently plucked from the back of his closet, most likely left over from high school? It was one thing for him to turn her head when he was clean-shaven and wearing Armani. It was quite another to have her heart catch when he’d taken zero care with his appearance. It was just one more reminder that it was the man and his charm, not anything else, that had captivated her.
She tried to hide her reaction by turning quickly to one of the students in her newly organized quilting class to answer a question. Bree’s sister-in-law, Connie, and Abby’s sister-in-law, Laila, had been two of the first to sign up for the class, and Heather sensed they were going to become friends well beyond the fact that they were part of the same huge extended O’Brien family. They’d lingered after class with a barrage of questions.
Connie seemed to sense Heather’s sudden distraction, turned and caught sight of Connor in the doorway.
“Well, well, look who’s here,” she taunted, then started laughing as Connor actually came inside. “Looks as if somebody got more Easter egg dye on himself than on the eggs.”
Heather followed the direction of her gaze and noted that Connor’s T-shirt did indeed look as if it had been tie-dyed by an amateur … or a pair of tiny hands. There was a streak of bright blue dye on his cheek, too. His hair, normally carefully groomed, stood up in spikes with the occasional wayward curl. Once more she noted that he looked charmingly rumpled and devastatingly sexy.
“Happy Easter, Connor,” Laila said, then grinned. “I wish somebody would tuck a man like you in my Easter basket tomorrow morning.”
Connie nudged her in the ribs. “Watch it! He’s taken.” She cast a warning look in Heather’s direction.
“Actually, he’s not,” Heather said mildly, taking her son from his arms.
“Hey, I never said I wanted Connor,” Laila protested. “I said I wanted a man like him.” A grin spread. “But minus the flaws.”
Heather noted that Connor’s cheeks were flushed, even though he’d obviously known both women for most of his life, was indirectly related to them, and had to be used to their teasing.
“Hey, let’s not be passing me around like some old football, ladies,” he grumbled. “I have feelings. Let’s talk about your love lives for a minute.”
“Sadly, I have none,” Laila said, then brightened. “Maybe you could bring home a couple of your lawyer friends one of these days. We need some hot new blood in this town, right, Connie?”
“That would definitely work for me,” Connie confirmed.
Connor’s gaze landed on Heather. “And you?”
“I know your colleagues,” she said, holding his gaze. “I’m not interested.” She turned to Laila and Connie. “Boring workaholics.”
“Ah, been there, done that,” Laila said with regret. “Well, I’d better take off. I promised Abby and Trace I’d watch the girls tonight so they can have an evening to themselves.”
“And I have to get home before Jenny goes out on her date,” Connie said. “Even though her curfew hasn’t changed in two years, if I don’t repeat it ten times before she leaves the house, she’ll claim she didn’t remember. Then we get to fight over whether she should be grounded for being late.”
“See you next Saturday,” Heather called after them, watching ruefully as they left her alone with Connor.
“Watch it with those two,” Connor told her, a grin tugging at his lips. “They’ll fill your head with all of my youthful misdeeds.”
“I pretty much know everything I need to know about you,” Heather replied. “I doubt they could say anything to sway me for or against.” She studied him curiously. “Did you ever date either one of them?”
His gaze locked with hers. “Would it bother you if I had?” he asked, almost sounding hopeful.
“No, I’m just wondering. They’re both beautiful, intelligent women.”
“They are,” he agreed. “But Connie’s a few years older, and by the time I was dating, she was already pretty serious about the man she eventually married.”
“They’re divorced now,” Heather reminded him.
“A single mother with a teenage daughter’s not going to be interested in me,” he said candidly. “Besides, Jake would beat the living daylights out of me if I led his sister on. Ditto with Trace. He’s very protective of Laila. Both of my brothers-in-law know how I feel about marriage. They’d definitely object to me getting involved with either of their sisters.”
“You know what I don’t understand,” she said, carrying the now-sleeping Mick into the back room and settling him into his portable playpen, “How can you spend time with Jake and Bree, Trace and Abby, Kevin and Shanna and even your parents, and not see how happy they are?”
“I can’t deny they appear to be happy now,” Connor admitted, surprising her.
“Really?”
Then he had to go and ruin it by adding, “But it won’t last. It never does. Besides, appearances can be deceiving. Look at all the years my folks made each other miserable. The world thought they were just fine, and then it all blew up and my mom walked away.”
“And yet somehow you thought you and I could go on forever, as long as we didn’t legalize it,” she said. “Can’t you see how absurd that is?”
“Maybe it doesn’t make any sense to you, but I can’t change how I feel,” he said defensively. This time he put a halt to the topic. “Look, Gram wanted me to be sure you’re coming for Easter dinner tomorrow. Will you be there?”
Heather thought of how wonderful it felt being part of that big, rambunctious family, especially on holidays, but it was wrong. She wasn’t an O’Brien, and keeping up the pretense that she was hurt too much. She’d learned that on Connor’s prior visit.
“I think tomorrow little Mick and I will spend Easter on our own,” she said.
Connor’s gaze narrowed. “Because of me,” he guessed. “Look, please don’t stay away and keep little Mick from being there to hunt for eggs with his cousins. If it’ll make you more comfortable, I’ll go back to Baltimore in the morning. No one was expecting me to be here this weekend, anyway. It won’t be a big deal if I take off.”
“Absolutely not. This is your family, and you should spend the holiday with them. I’m the one who doesn’t belong.”
“That’s not true,” he argued. “You’ve come to mean a lot to all of them, especially my parents. And our son should be there.”
He held her gaze. “Please, Heather. Don’t let me chase you away.”
She sighed and relented, though not without real regret. Every time she saw him, it was now clear it was going to reopen old wounds. “Okay, we’ll come as long as we don’t chase you away, either.”
Connor regarded her with relief. “Fine. I’ll be there, too.” He pulled a stool over to the counter, sat down and studied her with an intense expression. “You know what I don’t get?”
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Sherryl Woods
Home, heart and family. Sherryl Woods knows what truly matters. Heather Donovan never thought she’d be leaving Connor O’Brien, with their son in tow. Connor may be the love of her life, but she and her son deserve more than what Connor is willing to give. Chesapeake Shore is the perfect place to start over.With a new business, a new home and a welcoming embrace from the O’Brien family, Heather’s creating a new life for herself – without Connor. So when Connor starts coming around more often, testing her resolve and reminding her why she loves him, Heather is torn. Should she continue to follow her head or maybe it’s time she went back to trusting her heart…Healing families, healing hearts. In Chesapeake second chances happen in the most unexpected ways.
Acclaim for New York Times bestselling author
SherrylWoods
‘Sherryl Woods always delights her readers—including me!’ —No.1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber
‘Compulsively readable … Woods’s novel easily rises above hot-button topics to tell a universal tale of friendship’s redemptive power.’
—Publishers Weekly on Mending Fences
‘Sherryl Woods always delivers a fast, breezy … romance.’
—Jayne Ann Krentz
‘Sherryl Woods gives her characters depth, intensity and the right amount of humour.’
—RT Book Reviews
‘Sherryl Woods is a uniquely gifted writer whose deep understanding of human nature is woven into every page.’
—New York Times bestselling author Carla Neggers
Other novels in the Chesapeake Shores series
THE INN AT EAGLE POINT
FLOWERS ON MAIN
HARBOUR LIGHTS
A CHESAPEAKE SHORES CHRISTMAS
Coming soon
MOONLIGHT COVE
Many of Sherryl’s novels are available in eBook
Please visit: www.mirabooks.co.uk
Driftwood Cottage
Sherryl Woods
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Chesapeake Shores!
Connor O’Brien, who’s been living in Baltimore, is probably the least well-known of the siblings in this large, dysfunctional family. In some ways, though, he’s the son who’s most embittered by his parents’ divorce and the least likely to walk willingly into marriage. And yet Connor’s love for Heather Donovan and the son they share runs deep. He’s devastated when she calls off their relationship, no longer able to pretend that their halfhearted arrangement is enough. Heather wants it all—the vows, the ring, the piece of paper legally binding them together.
Only when an accident nearly claims her life does Connor realise that a future that doesn’t include Heather is no future at all. But ironically, after all the years of declaring his distrust of marriage, Heather doesn’t believe his sudden turnaround. Or does she have issues of her own, after all?
I hope you’ll enjoy the ride as these two struggle to find their way toward happiness—of course with all those meddling O’Briens around to nudge them determinedly in the right direction.
And next, at last, not only Jess but Uncle Thomas will each find the love of their life. There are hints about that in this book, but, as always, it will take some serious prodding for true love to triumph. What’s the fun of a happy ending if there haven’t been a few roadblocks along the way? Enjoy!
All best,
1
Heather Donovan propped open the front door and stood just inside the brightly lit storefront in Chesapeake Shores so she could inhale the scent of sea air from the bay across Shore Road. Turning slowly, she studied the stacks of colorful fabric bolts that had to be sorted and displayed, the unopened boxes of quilting supplies and the quilt racks that still required assembly. Her pride and joy, the carefully crafted shelving units, had been built to her specifications by her son’s grandfather, famed architect Mick O’Brien, for whom her son, little Mick, was named.
Seeing it all coming together was a little overwhelming. Not just opening a business, but all of it—moving to this quaint town, deciding to raise her son on her own, giving up on a future with Connor O’Brien—these were all huge steps. Her mind still reeled when she thought about the recent changes in her life. She might embrace the changes, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t scared to death.
If anyone had told her a few months ago that she would leave the man she loved more than anything, that she would take their son and move from Baltimore to a small seaside town and embark on a whole new career, Heather would have laughed at the absurdity of the predictions. Even though Connor stubbornly had refused to consider marriage, she’d thought they had a good life, that they were committed to one another. She’d believed that so strongly that she’d ignored her parents’—actually it had been mostly her mother’s—warnings about the mistake she was making by having a child with Connor without a ring on her finger.
But, in fact, they—she, Connor and their son—might have gone on exactly like that for years if she hadn’t seen how Connor’s career as a divorce lawyer was chipping away at their relationship, how his anger at his parents was corrupting their day-to-day lives. She didn’t like the embittered man she’d seen him becoming, and he seemed to have no desire to change.
It wasn’t as if she’d made her decision to break up lightly. She’d gone away for several weeks, leaving their son with Connor’s family while she’d pondered what was best for her future and for her child’s. She hadn’t been happy about the conclusion she’d reached, that she needed to start a new life on her own, but she’d made peace with it. And, in time, she knew she’d find the fulfillment that had eluded her with Connor.
Not that she could envision a day when she’d stop loving him, she thought even now, months after making the decision. She sighed at how difficult it sometimes was to reconcile emotions with common sense and facing reality, especially with a precious little boy as a constant reminder of what she’d given up.
A bell over the shop’s front door tinkled merrily, interrupting her thoughts. Megan O’Brien stepped inside, carrying her grandson who beamed at the sight of Heather.
“Mama!” he cried, holding out his chubby little arms. Just over a year old now, he was the joy of Heather’s life.
“He was missing you,” Megan explained, then gave her a commiserating look. “And I thought you might be needing a glimpse of him about now. I know you’re still not over all those weeks the two of you spent apart.”
“Thank you,” Heather said, reaching for her son.
“Feeling overwhelmed?” Megan asked with the kind of insight that Heather had come to treasure.
So many times in the past few months she’d regretted that Megan wouldn’t be her mother-in-law. In many ways Heather felt closer to Connor’s mother than she did to her own mother back in Ohio. A wonderful salt-of-the-earth woman who went to church on Sundays, volunteered at a homeless shelter and in a children’s hospital, Bridget Donovan had an endless store of compassion for everyone except her own daughter. She flatly refused to accept that any daughter of hers would willingly choose not to marry the father of her child.
Heather sighed. As if marriage to Connor had ever been an option, no matter how desperately she might have hoped for it.
Heather bounced baby Mick in her arms as she nodded in response to Megan’s question. “You’re right about feeling overwhelmed,” she said, gesturing around the store. “I have no idea where to start. What if opening a shop, especially here, is a huge mistake? I don’t know anything about running a business. And being here, in this town, surrounded by O’Briens, what was I thinking? Why on earth did I let you talk me into this?”
“Because you knew it was a brilliant idea,” Megan said at once, obviously still pleased with herself for coming up with this solution for Heather’s future.
“Still, doubts are understandable,” she consoled Heather. “You’ve made a lot of changes recently. All good ones, I think. As for starting your own business, this is a natural fit for you. The minute I saw those handmade quilts of yours, I knew it. You do absolutely beautiful work. Everyone in town is going to want to own one of your quilts or have you teach them how to make their own.”
Megan fingered a small folk art quilt of a bay scene as she spoke. “This one, for instance, is a treasure. How can you bear to part with it? And at this price? It needs to cost twice as much.”
“The price is fine. I was just experimenting,” Heather said modestly, still astonished that anyone thought her hobby could turn into a thriving business. She had always enjoyed quilting, and it had filled the quiet evenings while Connor studied. She’d never envisioned it as anything more than a hobby.
In fact, her college degree had been in literature. She’d never quite figured out what to do with that besides teach. After two years in an out-of-control Baltimore high school classroom, she’d gratefully quit when she’d become pregnant with Connor’s baby.
She gestured to the quilt Megan was admiring. “If you aren’t just saying that to calm me down, if you really like it, I’ll make one for you.”
Megan’s eyes brightened. “I’d love it, but I will pay you for it, and I swear I’m going to talk you into doubling the price.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Well, that’s what I’m paying,” Megan countered just as stubbornly. “You’ve a business to run, after all.”
Heather sighed. “Starting a business is just one of my concerns these days,” she admitted. “What about moving out on Connor? Was that the right decision, Megan?” She couldn’t seem to keep a wistful note out of her voice.
“Even that,” Megan assured her. “My son is stubborn, and you’ve given him exactly the wake-up call he needed.” She patted Heather’s hand. “He loves you. Just tuck that knowledge away. He’ll come around if you’re patient.”
“For how long?” Heather asked. “We met our freshman year in college, dated for four years, moved in together when he was in law school. When I found out I was pregnant, I was so sure we’d get married, especially when he encouraged me to quit my job to be a full-time mom. I was certain we were finally going to be a real family, the kind I’d always wanted. He even said that’s what he wanted, too, just without a marriage license.”
She waved off her regrets. “I should have known better than to expect him to change his mind. Connor always told me he had no intention of ever marrying, that he didn’t believe in marriage. It’s not as if I didn’t understand the rules from the very beginning.”
“People don’t make rules about things like that,” Megan said dismissively. “They just let the past control the future. In Connor’s case, his attitude is all because of what happened between his father and me. Now that Mick and I have remarried and started over, I’m convinced Connor will see that love can endure all kinds of trials, including divorce.”
Heather smiled at her optimism. “Have you met Connor? He’s stubborn as a mule. Once he gets an idea into his head, he won’t let go of it. And look how long it’s been since I moved out. It was last Thanksgiving when I left to think things over, January when I officially left him. It’ll be Easter soon, and he still hasn’t shown any signs of changing his mind. He may not be entirely happy that I’m gone, but he’s not doing anything at all to change the situation.”
Megan grinned. “I’m married to a man just like that, his father. Believe me, there are ways of getting through to their hard heads.” She glanced pointedly at the boy in Heather’s arms. “And you’ve your ace in the hole right there. Connor adores his son.”
Heather shook her head. “A couple can’t build a future around a child. It’s not fair. My parents did that. They stayed in a miserable marriage because of me. They thought it would be best, but it wasn’t. The tension was unbearable. I won’t have that for my son.”
“I’m not suggesting that you be together for your child, only that he’ll keep you in Connor’s orbit while he gets his feet back under him and realizes how much he loves you both. Having you with him was entirely too comfortable. He had it all his own way. The stance you’ve taken is the smart one. Eventually he’ll realize what he needs to do to have the two of you back again.”
“I hope you’re right,” Heather admitted, though she wasn’t counting on it. In fact, if things didn’t work out with Connor, it could make her decision to move to Chesapeake Shores where she’d be surrounded by his family the worst one she’d made in years. The O’Briens might provide an enviable support system, but she’d be reminded of what could have been every minute of every day.
“Of course I’m right,” Megan said confidently. “Now tell me what I can do to help you get organized in here. Do you have a system?”
Even to her own ears, Heather’s laugh had an edge of hysteria about it. “If only,” she said, glancing around at the chaos. She regarded Megan hopefully. “Are you sure you have some time to spare?”
“Of course I do. At Mick’s insistence, I’ve hired a very competent assistant at the gallery, and things are under control. In the meantime, I’ll let her know I’ll be right next door if she needs me,” she said, flipping open her cell phone. When she’d made the call, she told Heather, “Now, just put me to work.”
Heather didn’t hesitate. “If you could start opening those boxes, I could begin sorting the fabric for the displays,” she suggested, settling Mick into the playpen she’d already set up in a corner. He uttered an immediate howl of protest, then spotted one of his favorite toys and was quickly absorbed with that.
Heather and Megan worked in companionable silence for a while before Megan inquired, “Have you told Connor about the shop yet? He didn’t mention it last time we spoke and I certainly didn’t want to be the one to fill him in.”
Heather stiffened. “It hasn’t come up. Truthfully, we barely exchange a dozen words when I drop Mick off to spend the day with him. I haven’t even told him I’ve moved here. He reaches me on my cell phone when he needs to, so it’s not as if it really matters where I’ve settled. I suppose if I’d run off to California, he might have a legitimate complaint, but I’m barely an hour away. Nothing’s changed in terms of his schedule to see little Mick.”
Megan looked distressed by her response. “Oh, Heather, you need to tell him,” she said. “And you need to do it before he comes home for a visit and discovers it for himself or before someone else in the family blabs. He’ll be furious that you’ve kept it from him.”
Heather shrugged. “It’ll just be one more thing to add to the list. He’s already angry that I refused to move back in. To be honest, he wasn’t all that happy when I insisted on keeping little Mick with me after I’d left him here with you while I was trying to sort through things and get my head on straight. He apparently thought the arrangement was going to be permanent.”
“There’s no question that he liked having the baby here with him and the rest of the family,” Megan acknowledged. “We all did. But I think everyone except Connor understood it was only temporary.”
Heather regarded her with sorrow. “Sometimes I think I’m destined to keep making things worse between Connor and me. If we talk at all, we’re at odds over everything.”
Megan smiled at that. “It’s only awkward right now because you won’t give him what he wants—an unconditional commitment that doesn’t include marriage. He has to learn that he can’t always have things on his own terms.”
“But aren’t I doing the same thing, expecting to have things on my terms?” Heather asked.
Megan regarded her thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s true. Maybe it’s just because I think you’re the one who’s right that I’m not blaming any of this standoff on you. I think two people who love each other and have a child together ought to at least try marriage, that they ought to be fighting to make it work.”
She sighed. “Goodness knows, I spent years trying to make things work with Mick before I took the drastic step of leaving. Even in hindsight, I don’t think I had a choice by then, though I know I should have handled things differently and much better where all of our children were concerned. I still regret that, and I’d never have forgiven myself if I’d simply run at the first sign of trouble, rather than leaving as a last resort.”
Heather grinned at her. “But here you are, together again. Happy endings still happen. Why can’t Connor see that, especially when it’s right in front of his face?”
“I fear it’s because he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body,” Megan replied sorrowfully. “He’s become cynical when it comes to love. Mick and I did that to him, and that job of his—dealing with bitter divorces every single day—has reaffirmed his jaded views.”
“Then what makes you think he’ll ever come around?” Heather asked.
“Because I am a romantic,” Megan said, smiling. “I believe in the power of love. And I know how deeply he cares about the people he has let into his heart—his sisters and his brother, his grandmother, even Mick when they’re not battling over one thing or another.”
“I saw that side of him, too, or thought I did,” Heather said softly, though her voice lacked the conviction of Megan’s.
“Then don’t give up on Connor,” Megan advised. “He’ll find his way back to you. I believe that, too.”
As much as she admired the older woman and respected her opinions, Heather wished she could share Megan’s faith where Connor was concerned. So far she hadn’t seen even the tiniest chink in his well-established armor. He was dead-set against letting emotion overrule his very stubborn head, at least when it came to her.
Connor stood in the middle of his townhouse in Baltimore and wondered why it no longer felt like home. The furniture he and Heather had chosen was still in place. She’d taken nothing when she left, and yet without her the place felt empty. The kitchen cupboards were filled with dishes, the refrigerator stocked with food, albeit mostly of the frozen variety. In fact, despite her departure several months ago, Heather’s touch was everywhere, right down to the framed photos of his son scattered over just about every surface.
Heather’s glowing face beamed back at him from many of them, as well. It always made his heart catch when he caught an unexpected glimpse of her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, inside and out. Most people saw the shining blond hair, hazel eyes and delicate features and focused on those, but he knew she had the most generous heart on earth. She’d put up with him long enough to prove she was a saint.
And then she’d gone. Just like that, on Thanksgiving Day while he’d been out nursing his wounds over a glass of Irish whisky with a couple of buddies, decrying his parents’ plan to remarry, Heather had packed up their son and left. To add to his dismay, she’d dropped the baby off on his parents’ doorstep, dragging both Mick and Megan into the middle of the drama. Connor wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive her for that.
Disgruntled just by the thought of the humiliation he’d felt having to go home to Chesapeake Shores and explain himself to the mother from whom he’d been estranged for years, he poured himself another glass of Irish whisky. He went into his office hoping to push all of his sour thoughts out of his head and get some work done. Before he could cross the room, though, the doorbell rang. He opened it to find his brother Kevin standing there.
“This is an unexpected surprise,” Connor said, regarding Kevin warily. His brother wasn’t in the habit of dropping in. The last time he had, he’d found a very pregnant Heather on the scene and nearly been struck dumb by the awkward moment. He’d mostly stayed away since.
“You feel like some company?” Kevin inquired, moving aside to reveal two of their oldest friends, Will and Mack, along with Connor’s brothers-in-law, Trace Riley and Jake Collins.
Connor scowled, his worst fears confirmed. They were here on some kind of mission. It was anyone’s guess who’d put them up to it. His money was on his father.
“And if I don’t?” he asked.
“Hey, Baltimore’s a big city. I’m sure we can find someplace else to hang out,” Jake said. “I’m not wasting this chance for a guys’ night. The only reason your sister let me out of our regular date night is because Kevin told her we were coming to see you.”
Connor stared at Jake incredulously. “You let Bree tell you what you can and can’t do? Come on, man, that’s just pitiful.” It reaffirmed his low opinion of marriage as well, even if they were talking about his sister.
Jake grinned. “I let her think that’s how it works,” he corrected. “And, to be perfectly honest, this date night idea of hers has some amazing benefits, or at least it did until she got so pregnant she can barely move. She blames the huge belly, the baby’s constant kicking and the swollen ankles all on me. These days I can pretty much forget about sex.”
Connor clapped his hands over his ears. “Too much information,” he protested. He turned to Trace. “And Abby? Does she have to give you permission to go out with the guys?”
“No way,” Trace said forcefully. “However, it helps that she’s staying in Baltimore tonight herself because of work, so the subject didn’t really come up.”
“What did you do with the twins?” Connor asked, referring to Abby’s very precocious daughters who were now nine-going-on-nineteen. “They’re a little young to be left on their own.”
“They’re staying with Grandma Megan and Grandpa Mick,” Trace said. “The only drawback is that tomorrow I will once again have to explain that ice cream and candy are not the two most important food groups. I’ll have to try to convince them of that before Mommy gets home.”
“You two do have your trials, don’t you?” Connor said to his brothers-in-law with amusement. “You’re not exactly walking endorsements for marriage.”
Trace and Jake exchanged a worried look that said it all. Obviously at least some part of their mission was to convince him what a mess he was making of things with Heather.
Still, since the men were on his doorstep and he was in desperate need of company, Connor stepped aside to let them enter. “I don’t suppose any of you thought to bring food, did you? I have a freezer full of frozen dinners, but that’s about it.”
“Mack has the closest pizza place on speed dial,” Kevin assured him. “His cell phone allows him to find that in any city in the country. He may be lonely, but he’ll never starve.”
“I’m not all that lonely,” Mack retorted.
“Even though he still claims he’s not dating your cousin Susie, they seem to spend every spare minute together,” Will taunted. “I’m thinking of writing some kind of case study for a psychology journal on the whole phenomenon of delusional nondating.”
“Bite me,” Mack replied cheerfully, then took out his phone. “Pizza okay for everyone?”
“Works for me,” Connor said, then looked pointedly at his unexpected guests. “As long as it doesn’t come with a side order of meddling.”
“Absolutely not,” Kevin said solemnly.
“Agreed,” Trace said.
“No meddling with dinner,” Will said, then grinned. “We’re saving that for dessert.”
“How’d things go with Heather today?” Mick asked Megan when they met for dinner at one of the small cafés along Shore Road in the same block as her gallery.
“She’s getting settled in,” Megan told him. “I think her business is going to be wildly successful. She showed me her apartment upstairs today, too, and it’s adorable, just right for her and little Mick.”
“I still don’t understand why she wouldn’t move into the house with us,” Mick grumbled. “Little Mick’s already comfortable there. We have plenty of room.”
“And it would put the two of them right in Connor’s face every time he comes home,” Megan said. “Is that what you were hoping for?”
“Well, why not?” Mick replied testily. “If those two would spend a little more time together, they could work things out. You know it as well as I do.”
“I also know they can’t be rushed. Time apart may be the best thing for them right now.”
Mick regarded his wife with amusement. “Don’t act as if you’re not doing your share of manipulating, woman. I know all about the way you put a bug in Kevin’s ear to spend some time with Connor tonight. The way I hear it, he, Jake, Trace, Will and Mack have all been dispatched to Connor’s place to extol the joys of married life.”
Megan regarded him innocently. “Will and Mack aren’t married.”
“Maybe not, but Will’s a shrink, so he has all sorts of insights to offer, I’m sure. As for Mack, he might as well be, for all the time he’s spending with Susie these days.” He shook his head in bewilderment. “I have no idea why my brother hasn’t stepped in and taken control of that situation. It’s time for Mack to get off the dime and propose to that girl, or at least admit he’s dating her.”
“Your brother is not the natural-born meddler that you are,” Megan reminded him. “I’m sure Susie and Mack are very grateful for that.”
“There you go, sounding all superior again, when I know for a fact you’re every bit the meddler that I am,” Mick accused.
Megan laughed. “What can I say? I want all of our children to be as happy and settled as we are.”
Mick studied her face, looking for any sign of discontent. After missing too many hints of unhappiness during their first marriage, he was determined to be attuned to every nuance of their relationship this time around.
“You mean that?” he asked directly. “You’re happy?”
“Of course I am. I have everything I could possibly want. You and I are back together. I’ve opened a business I love, and it’s gotten off to a solid start. And my relationship with each of our children is getting stronger every day. What could I possibly have to complain about?”
“Maybe the fact that you never did get that honeymoon I promised you,” Mick suggested.
Megan shrugged as if having the honeymoon of her dreams was of no consequence, even though they’d only been able to afford a trip to Ocean City for a weekend when they’d first wed all those years ago.
“That’s my own fault, not yours,” she told him. “Everything started coming together for the gallery right after the first of the year. There was no time to get away.”
“And now?” he asked. “You think you could spare a little time for me?”
“The gallery’s opened. My assistant’s trained. I suppose I could get away,” she said thoughtfully, then met his gaze with a sparkle in her eyes. “I’m quite sure that wasn’t an idle question, Mick O’Brien. What did you have in mind?”
“A week in Paris,” he said at once. He pulled two tickets out of his pocket and set them on the table. “And before you get all worked up over me being presumptuous, note that they don’t have a date on them. We can go whenever you say the word.”
Megan reached for his hand. “Who could have imagined that you could still learn a thing or two at this late date?”
He laughed at that. “When the motivation’s powerful enough, a man can always learn something new. I hope Connor figures that out before it’s too late.”
Megan’s previously lighthearted mood visibly darkened at his words. “Oh, Mick, I hope so, too, but there’s only so much you and I can do to make sure that happens. The rest is up to him and Heather.”
Mick knew that, but nevertheless it went against the grain to leave something so important to chance.
“You won’t object if I do a thing or two to nudge things along, will you?” he asked.
She gave him a stern look. “Nudge all you want, but pay attention to the signs, Mick. When they’re all but shouting to back off, do it. I mean that.” She grinned at him. “And something tells me this is definitely an ideal time for me to get you out of town before you do something we’ll both regret. Make those reservations for Paris. I’ll try to keep you preoccupied over there, so Connor and Heather can have a little breathing room back here.”
“A sneaky approach,” he said approvingly, “but you’re forgetting one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m great at multitasking.”
Megan met his gaze, laughter lurking in her eyes. “Is that so?” she inquired softly as she deliberately ran her hand along the inside of his thigh. “Do you really want to bet that I can’t make you forget all about Chesapeake Shores, much less meddling?”
Mick swallowed hard. Sadly, she had a point. The good news was that they were going to have one helluva time while she set out to prove it.
2
The combined efforts of the men in his family and his friends convinced Connor to make the drive to Chesapeake Shores on Saturday. He hadn’t been home since his parents’ wedding on New Year’s Eve. Though he’d made his peace with both Mick and even Megan, things seemed to go better between them when he kept his distance. Their capacity for meddling was beyond his for resisting. They’d made their opinions of his relationship with Heather crystal clear.
The drive home had been pleasant for a change. Although the weather was especially mild for late March, it was too early for most of the tourists and weekenders who flocked to the small towns on the Chesapeake Bay later in the season.
Arriving in Chesapeake Shores to discover all the hints that spring was just around the corner, he realized how much he missed being home. This time of year the town green was edged with beds of daffodils, the salty air of the bay beckoned and there was something special about the way the morning sun filtered through a haze and sparkled on the dew that covered the fresh green lawns.
With temperatures hovering close to seventy, he actually had visions of taking his old rowboat out for a lazy day of fishing. Maybe he could even convince Kevin to come along. It had been ages since they’d spent an idle day out on the water together.
Before heading toward home, he made the drive along Main Street, then turned right onto Shore Road. It was practically a ritual to take a tour of the town his father and uncles had built, to see what was happening. There were always one or two changes that caught him by surprise, especially in spring, when most new businesses chose to open in time for the summer tourist season.
He spotted the “Open” flag fluttering outside his mother’s new art gallery and resolved to make his duty call there later in the day, since he’d missed the official opening. He was anxious to see if she was as knowledgeable about art as his father and the rest of the family seemed to think she was.
Before he drove on, Connor caught a glimpse of another new store right next door. A beautiful handmade quilt hung in the window, a quilt, he realized with a sense of shock, that looked very familiar because it—or one exactly like it—had once hung on the wall in his townhouse. It was the one thing that had gone missing after Heather’s departure.
Slamming on the brakes, he looked around until he spotted a parking place up the street. He swung into it, then tried to still the sudden racing of his heart. He knew that quilt because Heather had made it. He’d watched her in the evenings as she’d stitched every seam, quilted every square, while he’d been studying for his law school classes. He’d been captivated by the contentment on her face as she’d worked quietly, happy just to be in a room with him.
Spotting that quilt in a store window shouldn’t throw him like this, he thought as he strode across the street. It shouldn’t matter to him that she’d apparently put it up for sale. But it did.
It offended him to think that maybe she was giving it up because she needed cash. How much could a quilt bring in, anyway? He thought he’d been giving her generous support money for their son, enough for both of them really, but maybe it wasn’t covering expenses, after all. He knew, though, from their heated exchanges, that she was too proud to take more.
Worse, of course, was the idea that she was selling the quilt because she couldn’t bear to look at it anymore, because it reminded her of him. Had she grown to hate him so much? It was true that most of their conversations recently had been brief and edgy, but he’d convinced himself they’d eventually move past the cool civility of late. Maybe that was just another of his many delusions where Heather was concerned, right up there beside the idea that she would change her mind and move back home with him.
He glanced at the sign on the window, which he hadn’t noticed earlier: COTTAGE QUILTS. For some reason that struck a distant chord as well. Had Heather ever mentioned opening a shop like this one? Was it one of the dreams she’d had before setting them aside to be with him? He’d known how much she’d hated teaching, but he couldn’t recall what she’d hoped to do instead once the baby was a bit older. That just reminded him of how many conversations they’d avoided over their years together. Anything involving the future had presented a minefield.
Just then he saw and heard her, Heather, standing amid a sea of fabric with a customer, talking animatedly about which colors worked well together and which ones clashed. With a sense of shock, he realized that not only was her quilt for sale, but that she was working here. How had that happened? Filled with questions, he stood where he was, just outside the open door, and waited.
When the customer left with a heavy bag filled with fabric, Connor stepped inside. Heather looked up, a smile on her face that faltered at the sight of him.
“Connor,” she said, a catch in her voice. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“Chesapeake Shores is my home,” he reminded her, his own tone testy. “What the devil are you doing here?”
She gestured around her. “What does it look like? I’ve opened a business.”
A thousand questions came to mind, but he blurted only one. “This is yours?”
She nodded, her expression defensive.
“You opened a business here? In my town?” he said incredulously.
She smiled at his reaction. “Actually if the town belongs to any one person, it would be your father, but I’m pretty sure it’s open to new residents.”
“You didn’t think you needed to tell me you’d moved here?”
“I would have as soon as we got settled. Getting this place open has taken a lot of my time.”
“Don’t tell me you’re living with my folks,” he said, regarding her with suspicion, already sensing a plot afoot to throw them together. After all, wasn’t that exactly what his mother had hinted at her wedding, that she intended to see that he was next to walk down the aisle? And it would definitely explain the unexpected visit by all the men in the family the previous weekend and their push to drag him down here.
“No. Believe me, I know that would have been a bad idea. I have my own apartment upstairs. Your mother and I …”
He frowned at the mention of his mother. “What does my mother have to do with this? Was it her idea?”
“In a way, yes,” Heather admitted at once.
“And you went along with it,” he said with a dismayed shake of his head. “Haven’t I told you she can’t be trusted?”
Heather visibly stiffened. “You told me a lot of things, Connor, all probably valid from your perspective, but I prefer to form my own opinions of people. I happen to like your mother, and even you have to admit she’s been a godsend in recent months, looking after little Mick.”
Connor bristled. “That still doesn’t mean you should take her advice. Did she tell you if you settled here, eventually I’d cave in and marry you?”
Heather frowned at him. “Trust me, I know your position on marriage, Connor. You’ve stated it often enough and in no uncertain terms. It’s ingrained in my head.”
“Then what are you doing here?” he asked again, genuinely bewildered about why she’d pick this town if not because it was his hometown.
“This decision was all about me and what I want for my future. Your mother saw my quilts and thought I had talent. When I was here for the wedding, she mentioned this space and the apartment upstairs. It seemed ideal for me, especially since it meant our son would get to be around his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. It was a far better option than going back to Ohio to be around my family, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
As rational as all that sounded, Connor couldn’t get over the fact that she’d kept this from him. “We’ve seen each other at least a half-dozen times since the wedding when you brought little Mick to spend the day with me, yet you never said a word about any of this. Why not?”
“You’ve always known exactly how to reach me on my cell phone. You haven’t missed a minute with your son. I didn’t think you’d be interested in knowing where I’m living,” she said with a shrug.
“Of course I’m interested. We’re talking about my son!” he said, his voice climbing.
He saw a bit of light die in her eyes at his words and knew he’d said exactly the wrong thing. It was a habit he’d inadvertently gotten into and couldn’t seem to break. When he should have been telling Heather he missed her, he couldn’t seem to choke out the words. The admission would have revealed a vulnerability he wasn’t prepared for her to see.
“Nothing’s changed where little Mick’s concerned,” Heather assured him, her voice tight. “You’ll still see him whenever you want to. This might not be as convenient as having us in Baltimore, but we’re hardly at the ends of the earth. Besides, other than giving him a chance to get to know his family, this move wasn’t about him, either. It was about me, and it’s been clear for some time now that I don’t matter to you. It was past time for a fresh start. Chesapeake Shores had a lot of advantages that other places wouldn’t have had. I’m sure even you can’t deny that.”
He understood why she thought she didn’t matter to him, but it annoyed him just the same. “Don’t be ridiculous. I love you. We have a son together. And what kind of fresh start is it, if you’re surrounded by my family?”
“This is where I need to be right now. Deal with it,” she said.
Her tone was surprisingly unyielding. What had happened to the accommodating woman he’d known so well? Before he could ask, she held up her hand to stop him.
“I am not having this discussion here, where a customer could come in at any moment,” she said firmly. “Please go, Connor. If you want to spend some time with your son today, he’s with your dad. I think Mick planned to take advantage of the weather and take him and his cousins Davy and Henry out on the dock by the house to fish.”
Connor wanted to stand here and argue with her, tell her that moving here, getting close to his family was a mistake, but he didn’t have the right. His stubborn refusal to take the next step and marry her had cost him the chance to have any say over her decisions beyond those directly related to their son. And how could he possibly argue that a place as serene as Chesapeake Shores with his own family all around was anything other than a perfect place to raise a child? He dropped the argument.
“Will I see you at the house later?” he asked.
“I doubt it. Shanna will bring little Mick home when she picks up Davy and Henry.”
“Tomorrow?” he pressed, not sure why he wanted to know just how deeply she’d insinuated herself into his family’s routines. “Will you be at Sunday dinner?”
She held his gaze. “Will it bother you if I am?”
“Of course not,” he said, managing to utter the lie despite a boatload of regrets. Seeing her, knowing he’d lost her, was some kind of sweet torture.
“Then we’ll see you there. Maybe we’ll have a chance to talk about how we’re going to make this work.” She gave him a hesitant smile. “Connor, I don’t want it to be awkward every time we run into each other. I really don’t.”
He sighed. “Neither do I.”
He just wasn’t sure it was possible to act as if everything between them had never mattered. Because the truth was, he’d realized months ago that she and his son were the only things in his life that did matter. He just didn’t see any way to hold on to them without betraying his core belief that most marriages were a sham and led, not to happily-ever-after but to misery.
Back at the house his father had built when he was first developing Chesapeake Shores, Connor paused long enough to throw his bag into his boyhood room, which still had his old sports posters on the walls. In the kitchen he grabbed a handful of Gram’s cookies, relieved to find that she hadn’t stopped baking, even though everyone, including her, had moved out of the main house, leaving it to his father and mother. Apparently Gram still made sure the cookie jar was stocked for visits by all of her great-grandchildren.
Crossing the wide expanse of lawn toward the bay, he could hear the laughter of children coming from the dock, followed by the low, surprisingly patient voice of his father. Stepping out onto the weathered gray boards, warmed by the midday sun, Connor stood unnoticed as his father baited hooks and helped his three grandsons cast their lines, one arm firmly around little Mick at all times. Only Henry and Davy had any real hope of reeling in a fish, but even from his spot in his grandfather’s lap, little Mick dangled his line into the calm waters of the bay, chattering happily to himself in nonsensical words, to which Mick replied as if he could understand him perfectly.
“I wish I had a camera,” Connor said quietly, causing Mick to glance up with a broad smile. “I can’t recall a time you ever spent the day fishing with me and Kevin.”
Mick’s smile faded at the barb. “You’re probably right. And it was my loss. I thank God every day that I have another chance with these boys.”
Up until now Davy and Henry had been totally absorbed with watching the water for some evidence that fish were nearby. When they looked up and spotted Connor, grins broke across their faces. Here was the uncle who was more grown-up playmate than authority figure.
“Uncle Connor, sit with us,” Davy pleaded. “You can put the worms on my line.”
“Big boys put their own bait on the hooks,” Mick told him firmly. “I just showed you how to do it.”
Davy wrinkled his nose. “But it’s yucky.”
Connor grinned. “That it is. Give me a minute with your granddad and little Mick, then I’ll come help you.”
While listening to the exchange, Mick studied Connor curiously. “What brings you home? Were we expecting you?”
“Do I need to make a reservation these days?” Connor asked defensively. For a time he’d been banished from his home for trying to interfere in his father’s plan to wed his mother again, but he’d thought his exile was in the past. In fact, he’d even moved in for a time when Heather had left his son here for several weeks. He’d commuted to work in Baltimore during that time.
“Of course you don’t need a reservation,” Mick said impatiently. “You just haven’t come back here since the wedding. Or should I say since Heather took your boy to be with her?”
“I was persuaded that I was overdue for a visit,” Connor admitted wryly.
Mick chuckled. “Then the mission was a success. You can thank your mother for pulling that together.”
Connor frowned. “Mom sent Kevin and the others to Baltimore? I’d figured you were behind it.”
“Not this time. It was your mother who planted a few seeds here and there,” Mick admitted.
“I suppose it was all about getting me down here so I could discover that Heather’s living in town with my son.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Mick agreed.
Connor directed a sour look at his father. “It’s not going to work, you know.”
Mick reached over to put another worm on Davy’s hook when he saw the boy struggling with it, then glanced up at Connor. “What’s not going to work?”
“Throwing Heather and me together. We’re not getting married.”
Mick shrugged. “Up to you, though it seems a shame for this boy of yours not to have a full-time daddy in his life.” He frowned at Connor. “And before you say a word, I may have been gone too much, but I was a full-time father, and all of you knew it.”
Back on the defensive, Connor said, “My son knows I love him.”
“How’s he supposed to know a thing like that when he never sees you?”
“I see him all the time,” Connor said. “Heather brought him for a visit just last week.”
“For an hour or two, I’ll bet,” Mick scoffed. “What kind of parenting is that?”
“He’s little more than a year old,” Connor protested. “Right now he needs his mother more than he needs me. When he’s a little older, he’ll spend more time with me.”
“And he’ll still grow up to complain that he hardly knew his daddy,” Mick said, then held up a hand to forestall Connor’s retort. “Pot calling the kettle black, I know, but that makes me the voice of experience. Don’t let these precious years pass by without being a part of them. Learn from my mistakes.”
Connor considered another quick, heated comeback, but instead dropped down onto the dock next to little Mick. “Hey, buddy, catch anything?”
His son gave him a wide grin and happily waved his tiny fishing rod in the air. He crawled off Mick’s lap to lean into Connor’s side, snuggling close, and reminding Connor in ways that Mick’s words never could, of just what his stubbornness was costing him.
When the quilt shop had emptied of customers around lunchtime, Heather called next door and reached Megan. “Do you have a minute?”
“Jane’s about to go pick up a couple of sandwiches, so I can’t leave just now. What’s going on?”
“Could you just meet me out front? We’ll both be able to see if any customers come this way.”
“Sure. Do you want Jane to bring back something for you, too?”
Food was the last thing on Heather’s mind. All she’d been able to think about for the past hour was Connor’s unexpected appearance earlier.
“If she’s going to Sally’s, have her bring me back a tuna fish sandwich on a croissant,” she said eventually. “I’ll bring the money outside with me now.”
“Will do. See you in a minute,” Megan promised.
One of the improvements the town had made along Main Street and Shore Road had been to add benches in front of many of the shops. It allowed weary shoppers to rest for a few minutes, but even more essential, it allowed bored husbands to relax outside, instead of pacing around casting daunting looks that cut short their wives’ shopping sprees.
Though the sun was warm, the breeze off the bay was cool. Heather pulled on a sweater, then sat outside to wait for Megan. When Connor’s mother joined her, she sighed as she sat down.
“This feels so good,” Megan said. “I’ve been on my feet all morning. I shouldn’t complain, because that means business has been good. How about you? Were you busy?”
“Swamped,” Heather said. “Mostly lookers, but I did have a couple of nice sales.”
Megan regarded her intently. “Then why don’t you look happier?”
“Connor’s here,” she announced, watching Megan closely for a reaction.
“Really? He didn’t let any of us know he was coming.”
“But you knew he might be coming home, didn’t you? You don’t sound all that surprised.”
Megan shrugged. “I hoped he’d be home soon, of course, but I didn’t know his plans.”
Heather still didn’t believe Megan was as clueless as she was pretending to be. “Why didn’t you warn me? He walked in here this morning, spoiling for a fight. I’m not even sure how he knew this shop was mine, since you said you hadn’t told him.”
“I hadn’t said a word,” Megan reiterated. “He might have recognized the quilt in the window. Didn’t you tell me it used to hang on the wall in your apartment?”
Heather couldn’t believe Connor had paid that much attention to the quilt she’d made. When she’d worked on it in the evenings, his head had mostly been buried in law books. He’d barely even commented when she’d hung it in their townhouse.
“I suppose it’s possible,” she conceded slowly. “Are you sure you didn’t let something slip about the shop?”
“I told you I wouldn’t,” Megan said, clearly not taking offense at the question. “But I did warn you he was bound to find out about it sooner or later. Is he upset?”
Heather nodded. “I’m not entirely sure if it’s because it caught him off guard or because I’m here in his town.”
“Probably a little of both,” Megan assessed. “Did you talk?”
“Not really. I didn’t want to get into anything here when a customer could walk in at any second. We agreed we’d talk some more when I bring little Mick over for dinner tomorrow.”
The look of satisfaction in Megan’s eye suggested she’d been hoping for exactly that. Heather studied her suspiciously. “Are you sure you didn’t have anything to do with luring him down here this weekend?”
“I can honestly say that I haven’t spoken to him in days,” Megan said.
“I think there’s a loophole in there somewhere, but I swear I can’t spot it,” Heather said with regret. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter what Connor’s doing here. Like you said, he was bound to turn up sooner or later. I guess I’d just been hoping for later. I’m not quite ready to go head-to-head with him. I’m still feeling my way with this new life of mine. I might not be strong enough to defend every decision.”
“Of course you are,” Megan said. “You’ve started a whole new life for yourself and your son. You can handle anything Connor dishes out. You were strong enough to walk away, after all. That took courage, Heather, especially when your heart wanted you to stay.”
“I only did it because I felt I didn’t have any other choice. Your son is a very smooth talker. If he puts his mind to it, he can destroy all of my rational reasons for being here and convince me I belong with him.”
Megan regarded her curiously. “Are you really worried that he’ll talk you into something you don’t want to do?” she asked, then added gently, “Or that he won’t try at all?”
Heather sat back with a heartfelt sigh. There it was, the undeniable truth. As smart as she knew her decision to move out and leave Connor had been, a part of her still desperately wanted him to fight to get her back. If he didn’t, the part of her heart that wasn’t already broken would finally shatter.
Connor’s plan to take his rowboat out for the afternoon had pretty much gone up in smoke when he’d discovered Heather was now living in town and his son was hanging out with his grandfather.
When little Mick tired of being outside with his cousins, Connor scooped him up and headed for the house. “I’ll make some sandwiches, Dad. Will you and the boys be up soon?”
“A half hour,” Mick said. “Then we’re all going to take naps, right, boys?”
Henry regarded him with a serious look that puckered his brow. “I don’t take naps anymore, Grandpa Mick.”
“Me, either,” Davy chimed in.
“Well, I do,” Mick said.
“So does your cousin,” Connor told the boys. “If you’re not sleepy after lunch, I’ll play a game with you, okay?”
“Henry’ll beat you,” Davy boasted of his older stepbrother. “He’s good at games.”
Connor laughed. “Then I’ll need to be very careful which game I pick to play. I hold the record at some of them.”
Mick shook his head. “Are you still that competitive kid who hated having anyone beat you at anything?” he asked Connor.
“Sure am,” Connor replied, giving him a wink. “See you at the house.”
An hour later Connor had fed the kids, then sent both his son and Mick off for naps before settling down in the den with Davy and Henry. Despite his protests, Davy fell asleep before he could even get the video system set up. Connor carried him upstairs, returned, then turned to Henry.
“You sure you wouldn’t rather rest for a while?” he asked him.
Henry regarded him eagerly. “I’d rather play,” he said at once. “Davy’s not much competition, and Grandpa Mick and Kevin don’t really understand how the game works.”
Connor made a big show of sizing him up. “You any good?”
“Really good,” Henry said in a rare show of confidence from a boy just starting to find his place in his new family.
“Want to place a little bet on the outcome?” Connor taunted. “You win, I’ll take you into town for ice cream. I win, you treat.”
“Don’t do it,” Kevin said, wandering in with a handful of cookies just in time to overhear. “Your uncle Connor cheats.”
Connor turned on his brother indignantly. “I most certainly do not. If anyone cheats, it’s you, big brother.”
“Since when?” Kevin said, snatching up the remote.
Behind them Henry giggled. “You guys are crazy.”
Kevin grinned at his stepson. “You are not the first to notice that, my boy. How about you and me team up against this hotshot? I think we can take him.”
Henry nodded eagerly. “Awesome!”
“That doesn’t strike me as fair,” Connor said, “but bring it on.”
An hour later, he’d destroyed the two of them. He regarded Kevin with satisfaction. “Who’s crying now? I see a double hot fudge sundae in my future.”
“Okay, okay, we bow to your superior expertise,” Kevin said, winking at Henry. “Why don’t you run upstairs and see if Davy’s awake? We should probably get home.” He glanced at Connor. “I was supposed to take little Mick back to Heather, but I assume you’d rather do that yourself.” He studied him pointedly. “Or am I wrong?”
“I’ll take him,” Connor said, his voice suddenly tight as he scowled at his brother. “So, you knew when you came to Baltimore the other night that Heather and little Mick were living here in town?”
“Guilty,” Kevin said.
“Yet you saw no need to mention it,” Connor said accusingly.
“Hey, all of this is between the two of you. The rest of us are innocent bystanders.”
“Innocent, my behind,” Connor said. “Since when has any O’Brien ever stood on the sidelines when it comes to stuff like this? You’re all a bunch of meddlers.”
Kevin didn’t even attempt to deny it. “You know now—isn’t that what counts? Well, that and what you’re going to do about it. Any idea about that?”
Connor sighed. “Not a clue.”
Kevin’s expression brightened. “I have a thought or two.”
“Says the man who was not meddling,” Connor said. “Forget it, big brother. Keep your ideas to yourself. If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it. You might circulate that message to the rest of the family, as well.”
Kevin laughed. “You have to be kidding. You said it yourself, meddling is the family hobby. The only way you’re going to deal with Heather in private is if the two of you move cross-country.”
Connor thought of the shop Heather had just opened. It was as cozy and welcoming as their home had once been. He doubted she’d be open to abandoning it, and he was in no position to make such a suggestion anyway. What could he offer her except more of the same? Sadly, all of his vows came with conditions, conditions she could no longer accept.
And that meant they were at a stalemate, with no obvious solution in sight.
3
At six o’clock, with the last customer gone, Heather locked the shop’s front door and began counting her receipts for the day. Sales had been decent for this early in the season, but things were going to have to get a whole lot better if she was to pay the bills and support herself with this business.
At a tap on the front door, she looked up, expecting to see Shanna with the boys, but it was Connor who stood there, their son in his arms.
“Shanna got held up at the store, so Kevin picked up Davy and Henry. I said I’d bring little Mick to you.” He set his son down on the shiny wood floor.
Though he’d started walking weeks ago, when he wanted to move fast, Mick had reverted to crawling. Now he fell to all fours and shot across the room to grab on to her leg.
“Hi, big boy,” Heather said, scooping him up, then meeting Connor’s gaze. “Thanks. Anything else?”
“I thought maybe we could grab a bite to eat,” Connor said, hands shoved into his back pockets. He looked surprisingly vulnerable for a man who could command a courtroom and sway juror opinions.
“Why?” she asked.
“To catch up?”
It was more of a question than an answer, which again showed just how ill-at-ease he was. Heather smiled despite her determination to keep him at arm’s length. It would be way too easy to forget all about her resolve and drift back into a relationship with this man, a relationship that would go nowhere, not because they didn’t love each other but because he wouldn’t allow it. No matter how much it hurt, she had to keep reminding herself that what he was able to give wasn’t enough.
“Thanks, but I don’t think so,” she said softly.
“It’s a burger and some fries, not a lifetime commitment,” he protested.
“And isn’t that exactly the problem?” she replied. “Have dinner with your family, Connor, or a friend. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You and I are friends,” he said stubbornly. “I miss my best friend.”
“So do I,” she admitted, “but things aren’t that simple, Connor. Not anymore. What you’re offering just isn’t enough for me. I owe it to myself and little Mick not to settle for so little.”
“Friendships last a whole lot longer than most marriages,” he countered, as he had all too often in the past when defending his decision never to wed.
“Probably because friends are more forgiving than spouses,” Heather replied, as she had before. “Or because people don’t understand that they have to work at marriage. Relationships are never static. They have to evolve over time as the individuals in them change.”
Connor frowned. “You still believe in marriage, don’t you? Despite all the evidence you’ve seen that it never lasts or that people wind up being miserable, you still have this optimistic view that love can conquer everything.”
“I do,” she said. “I know I grew up with a lousy example in my own life, but that just made me want to try harder to be sure my own marriage is everything it can be. I know I have what it takes to get through the rough patches.”
“Then why not look at this as one of those rough patches and work through it?” he asked with apparent frustration.
“Toward what?” she asked reasonably. She waved her hand when he didn’t come up with an answer. “Never mind. We’ve been over all of this before. Why belabor it? I respect your decision, Connor. I just don’t agree with it.”
“I never lied to you, Heather,” Connor said, his voice again filled with frustration. “You knew how I felt almost from the day we met. I didn’t change the rules at the last minute.”
“I’m not accusing you of that. I just think it’s sad that you made such a rule based on what happened with your parents. They’ve gotten over the past. Why can’t you?” She tilted her head and studied him. “You know what I hope? I hope you don’t go through your entire life not taking chances, not grabbing on to life. If you keep holding a part of yourself back, never committing to anyone, it would be such a waste.”
“You act as if marriage is the only commitment that matters,” he said irritably. “It’s a piece of paper, Heather. That’s all. It’s only as strong as two people want it to be.”
“Oh, Connor,” she said, shaking her head sorrowfully. She knew he believed that, which was probably the saddest part of all. “We’re never going to agree about this. I think you should go. I have things to finish up in here, and then I have to feed little Mick and put him to bed.”
For a moment, he looked as if he might prolong the argument, but then he just gave her a curt nod and left.
“Daddy!” little Mick said mournfully, staring after him.
Heather hugged her son just a little bit tighter. “You’ll see Daddy again tomorrow, sport. Grandpa Mick and all your uncles will be there, too.”
Whether Connor was around or not, at least her son wouldn’t be lacking when it came to strong male role models. She just couldn’t help wishing that his daddy would be the most important one.
Rather than going home, Connor drove over to The Inn at Eagle Point, hoping to find his sister Jess there. Jess was younger, which meant she still thought he hung the moon, despite all evidence to the contrary.
Better yet, she was single, which meant she had little to say on the subject of his reluctance to wed the mother of his child. All of his other siblings were now so happily wed and starry-eyed, they could no longer seem to grasp his point of view. How they’d accomplished that given the example they’d all grown up with was beyond him.
He found Jess in the inn’s cluttered office with a mountain of paperwork spread out on the desk in front of her.
“This is what you do for excitement on a Saturday night?” he taunted, settling down in a chair and propping his feet on the desk.
“It is when it’s the end of the month and I haven’t touched any of these papers until now,” she said. “If Abby catches sight of this mess, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“I thought our big sister hired an accountant to take care of the bills,” Connor said, referring to Abby’s intervention a few years earlier to keep the inn from bankruptcy before it even got its doors open.
“She did, but there are still some things only I can handle,” Jess said with a sigh. “It’s the most boring part of the job.”
“Which is why you neglect it,” Connor guessed.
She nodded. “Exactly. At least you’re not blaming it on my attention deficit disorder,” she said. “Everyone else does. Any time I mess up, it’s because of the ADD. I’m tired of people using that as an excuse when I let things slide. Sometimes a screwup is just a screwup.”
“Are you referring to a specific mistake or yourself?” Connor asked, his gaze narrowing. “Because nobody calls my sister a screwup.”
She grinned. “Thanks, but sometimes that’s exactly what I am. I’m sure Abby would be happy to fill you in on all the ways I’ve messed up. I’ll bet she keeps lists.”
He hated hearing Jess talk about herself in such disparaging terms. She’d overcome a lot of difficulties to achieve everything she had. “In the end, though, you’ve made a success of the inn, Jess,” he reminded her. “You should be proud. All the rest of us are, Abby included.”
“Mostly I am,” she admitted, then sighed. “I suppose I’m just having those end-of-the-month blues tonight.”
She leaned back and propped her own feet on the desk. “So what brings you to town, especially on a Saturday night? Did you come to see Heather and your son? It’s about time, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“Honestly, I didn’t even know they’d moved here,” he admitted. “How awful is that? Heather never said a word.”
“She probably thought you wouldn’t be interested,” Jess said.
“Yeah, that’s what she said.”
“Are you? Interested, I mean?”
“If it were up to me, she and little Mick would still be living with me in Baltimore,” Connor said candidly, then sighed himself. “But I do understand why she bailed. I won’t give her the one thing she wants.”
“A ring on her finger?” Jess guessed.
“Exactly.”
“Is it about a ring or a commitment?”
Connor considered the question. “I’d say the ring. I was committed to her a hundred percent, and she knew it.”
“But don’t you see, Connor, the ring is proof of that,” Jess said, leveling a look at him he hadn’t expected. “I get where she’s coming from.”
Connor frowned. “I thought you’d be on my side.”
“Hey, I am always on your side,” she told him. “It doesn’t mean I can’t see another point of view. Plus, I actually get how women think, which is more than you can say or you wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“Then you think I should marry Heather?” he asked.
“Not if you don’t love her,” his sister responded at once, then grinned. “But I think you do.” She shrugged. “Then again, what do I know about that? My own experience with grand passion is seriously in need of a major overhaul. I haven’t stuck with anyone for more than a minute. It’s making Dad very nervous. One of these days he’s going to take on my love life and try to fix it. If you can keep him distracted from that with your situation for, say, another ten years, I’d appreciate it.”
Connor studied her with amusement. “Dad has someone in mind for you?”
“No one specific, but I’ve seen him looking long and hard at every single man who’s ever in the same room with me, weighing what kind of candidate they’d make.” She shuddered. “It’s embarrassing. I wouldn’t put it past him to come up with some kind of dowry to get me down the aisle.”
Connor gave her a thoughtful look. “You’ve got to be worth at least a couple of cows and a herd of sheep, don’t you think?”
She scowled at him. “You are not even remotely amusing.”
“Look, if you don’t want to risk Dad getting involved, then go find the man you want,” Connor said. “That’ll put a stop to it.”
“You say that as if it’s as easy as plucking the ripest, sweetest peach from a tree in mid-July. In this town the pickings are pretty slim.”
“You run an inn full of tourists,” he reminded her.
“Available men do not come to a romantic little seaside inn alone,” she replied. “Would you?”
Connor winced. “Now that you mention it, no. Okay, start offering packages for business meetings. The new golf course should be opening soon. I’ll bet you could attract a law firm, for instance, to come for a weekend of meetings and golf.”
Jess’s eyes immediately lit up. “That’s a great idea! I could design a special brochure advertising small corporate retreats, then send it to all of the law firms and other corporations in Baltimore and Washington.”
She shoved aside papers on her desk, found a notebook and jotted down notes, her brow knit in concentration. Connor might as well have been in Baltimore.
Eventually, his subtle cough caught her attention. She grinned sheepishly.
“Sorry. I got caught up in the idea. You should be proud, since it was yours. And you know I have to write everything down when it’s fresh, or it will have flown right out of my head by morning.”
“I’d sit right here and brainstorm with you all evening, but to be honest, I’m starved. Can I interest you in dinner?”
Her expression brightened. “Let’s go to Brady’s for crabcakes. Now that you’re a big-time lawyer, you can buy.”
“It’ll be mobbed on a Saturday night,” he protested. “We could just eat here. Word is you have a first-class chef.”
“Our kitchen’s already closed. We don’t stay open this late until the season kicks in. Don’t worry about getting into Brady’s, though. Dillon lets me sneak in the back way. Oh, he yells at me for doing it, but he hasn’t stopped me yet.”
“All because you introduced him to his wife,” Connor replied. He stood up. “Okay, let’s do it. We can sit in the bar and check out the other singles. Maybe one of us will get lucky.”
Jess patted his cheek. “You’re already luckier than any man has a right to be. You just need to wake up and see it.”
Connor groaned. “Are you really going to hop on this bandwagon, too?”
“Of course I am. I like Heather. I love your little boy. And you, big brother, should claim them before somebody else snaps them up.” She gave him an impish grin. “Not that I’m meddling, of course.”
“Of course,” he said wryly.
In the O’Brien family, everyone had an opinion, and not a one of them was shy about expressing it. More’s the pity.
Overnight the springlike weather had taken a turn back toward winter. Temperatures dropped, dark clouds rolled in and what started as rain on Sunday morning had turned to sleet by lunchtime. Heather thought about calling Megan to cancel, but she knew that not only would she be depriving Connor and their son of time together, but it would look as if she were running scared.
She had little Mick bundled up and was about to head out, when Connor appeared at the door.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, letting him step inside but no farther. It wasn’t just that he was soaked from the run from the car to her apartment. She didn’t want him in this new sanctuary of hers.
“The roads are getting slick. I didn’t want you to drive over to the house. I figured I’d pick you up.” He hunkered down in front of little Mick. “Hey, buddy, you ready to go to Grandpa’s?”
“Ga’pa,” little Mick echoed, nodding eagerly.
Even though Heather hated admitting it, the thoughtfulness of the gesture wasn’t lost on her. “Thanks, but it’s just a couple of miles, Connor. I’m sure it would have been fine. Besides, the car seat’s in my car.”
“I have one, too,” he said, shrugging at her look of surprise. “I got it awhile back. It just made sense so we wouldn’t have to transfer the one from your car to mine if little Mick’s with me.”
“You’re right. It does make sense. Okay, then, we’ll ride with you.”
Connor frowned at her. “Where’s your winter coat? It’s turned really cold out there. I wouldn’t be surprised if we had snow before tonight.”
“This late in March?”
“It can happen,” he insisted. “Grab a scarf, too. And some gloves. You never remember your gloves.”
Heather hid a smile as she dug in the closet for her warmer coat, scarf and the gloves that had somehow ended up on the floor instead of in her pockets. Connor was right. She rarely wasted time hunting for them. And he was always pestering her about them. It was one of so many little ways he’d tried to take care of her.
If she’d been keeping a ledger, the list of positives in their relationship would have covered pages, but even at that it couldn’t make up for the one huge negative—his refusal to consider marriage.
Water under the bridge, she told herself, following him to the car.
“What did you do last night?” she asked as they headed toward his house. “Did you spend time with your mother and father?”
He shook his head. “Jess and I went to Brady’s for dinner. It was jammed, so we wound up sitting in the bar.”
“Looking for singles?” she asked, knowing that the bar was often packed with the town’s available men and women on a weekend night.
Connor shot a hard look in her direction. “Would you care if we were?”
She thought about it. Truthfully, she absolutely hated the idea of Connor being with another woman or even looking at one, but how could she tell him that? She was the one who’d dumped him.
“Hey, you and Jess are young, attractive professionals. You’d both be great catches.”
“Do I detect a hint of reservation in there?” he pressed.
She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I don’t have a right to criticize anything you choose to do, Connor. We’re not together anymore.”
“But would it bother you if I started dating someone else right here in Chesapeake Shores?” he persisted.
She frowned at him. “Why are you pushing this? Does your ego need me to admit I’d hate it? Okay, I’d hate it, but we’re both going to move on eventually. That’s just the way it is.”
Now it was his turn to frown. “Are you seeing someone else?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said impatiently. “It’s not some sort of contest to see which of us will start dating first, Connor. I’ve barely had time to take a deep breath, much less think about meeting men. Do you have any idea how much work is involved in starting a business and keeping up with a one-year-old?”
He looked relieved by her response, but his tone was apologetic. “I guess it would be none of my business if you were dating,” he conceded, then regarded her miserably. “How did we get here, Heather? From the day we met, I never looked at another woman. You never looked at another man. Those feelings haven’t changed, and yet here we are, making small talk and asking about each other’s social life as if we’re barely casual acquaintances. We’re trying to act as if the answers don’t matter, when we both know they do.”
She heard the sorrow in his voice and found herself reaching over to touch his hand on the steering wheel. “We’ll always be more than casual acquaintances, Connor. We share a son, for one thing. But it’s going to take time to find our way with this new relationship. Sometimes it’s going to be awkward and messy and frustrating, but we have to find a way to make it work. I don’t want either of us to end up bitter and unable to be in the same room together.”
He sighed. “I don’t want that, either.”
She forced a smile. “You do know that the two of us turning up together today is going to set tongues wagging with your family, don’t you? Are you ready for that?”
“Hey, you’re the one living here now. You’ll have to deal with the nonstop pressure and meddling more than I will. Are you up to it?”
“I guess I’ll have to be.” Sobering, she met his gaze. “We made the right decision, Connor.”
“You’re the one who made the decision,” he corrected, his tone suddenly edged with annoyance. “Don’t lay this on me. I was happy with the way things were.”
“Sure, hiding me and your son from your family was working just fine for you,” she retorted sarcastically. “It meant no one except me could tell you what you were doing was wrong. And of course I couldn’t say a thing, either, because essentially I made a pact to play by your rules the day I agreed to move in with you.”
He frowned at the accusation. “Did I force you to move in?”
“Of course not. You just counted on me loving you so much, I wouldn’t be able to turn you down.”
“You never once said a word about being unhappy with our situation,” he complained. “Not even once.”
“And that’s all on me,” she agreed. “I weighed the options of living with you on your terms or without you, and I chose you. I don’t regret that, Connor. I really don’t. The years we spent together were amazing.”
“What changed?” he asked.
“When little Mick came along, I began to see things differently,” she conceded. “I wanted more for all of us.”
“You should have told me that,” he said.
“Oh, please. Every single time I tried to tell you what I was feeling, you’d get this look on your face as if I were betraying your trust, so I shut up,” she said. “And when I saw your attitude toward marriage getting darker and darker every day with every divorce case you handled, I had to accept that you were never going to change. That meant it was up to me to make a choice, and the only one that made sense for me was to move out and move on.”
She regarded him with real sorrow. “And just so you know, it wasn’t easy, and there are times when I regret it, but I still know in my heart it was the right thing to do.”
“Maybe for you,” he said grudgingly. “But what about our son? Was it best for him?”
“In the long run, it will be,” she insisted. “If you and I cooperate, he’ll grow up knowing we both love him.”
“The way all of us wound up knowing how Mom felt about us?” he scoffed. “We grew up thinking she’d abandoned us. Neither she nor Dad tried all that hard to show us otherwise.”
“Which is exactly why you and I will do everything we possibly can to make sure little Mick doesn’t feel abandoned by anyone,” Heather countered. “We have to try, Connor. We’re the grown-ups, and we can do this, because we both understand how important it is, right?”
He glanced over at her, then sighed. “Right,” he said with obvious reluctance.
He pulled up in front of the house. “I’ll let you out here with the baby, then park.”
Trying to inject a hint of humor into the suddenly somber mood, she teased, “You just don’t want to get caught walking in the door with us. You know I’m right about the hornet’s nest that will stir up.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “Yeah, that’s it.”
Again, she placed her hand over his. “We’re going to make this work,” she reassured him. “I don’t know how, but we will, because we have to.”
“Sure,” he said, though he sounded doubtful.
Heather hesitated, thinking she should say something more, something to put a real smile back on his face, but nothing came to mind. Because the one thing he wanted, for her to cave in and move back to Baltimore on his terms, was the one thing she could never agree to do. At least, not if she were to live with her conscience.
4
Thomas O’Brien wasn’t sure what had drawn him home to Chesapeake Shores, especially on such a dreary Sunday morning. Usually he confined his trips to the holidays and the occasional visit to his mother. Now that Nell was in her eighties, he tried to make those visits more frequently, but usually at a time when he wouldn’t have to deal with his brother Mick and the rest of the family. He and Mick could pick a fight in ten seconds flat on their best days. On their worst, they barely managed to exchange a civil word. Lately things were better, but he didn’t like pressing his luck.
Despite that concern, when he’d awakened this morning in his cramped apartment in Annapolis, Thomas had wanted to go home. Lately, he’d been feeling especially restless. His work with the foundation that studied the bay’s environment was frustrating and time-consuming, but his passion for it hadn’t waned. Most of the time, it was rewarding enough to keep him going through any rough patches. Usually it even filled the tremendous gaps in his social life since his last divorce.
Recently, though, he couldn’t help recognizing that something was missing from his life. In fact, every time he spent a few hours around Mick, now that Mick and Megan were back together, he could easily pin a label on it. He wanted a family of his own. Hanging around his older brothers—Mick and even Jeff and his family—reminded him of all that he’d missed out on while focusing on work. Both of his marriages had been so brief that he’d never considered children, and he was feeling that lack now more than ever before.
In truth, though he was only in his early fifties, he’d blown both marriages due to his obsession with environmental issues and protecting the bay that he loved. Lately, other than having an occasional drink with a coworker or one of the volunteers working on the foundation’s fundraising efforts, his personal life was deader than the bay’s waters had been a few years back. Now the ecosystem was slowly coming back into balance, but his life wasn’t.
When he knocked on Mick’s door, it was Megan who answered. She beamed at him and immediately dragged him inside.
“Get in here out of that nasty weather,” she said at once, her expression welcoming.
“You have room for one more at the table today?” he asked, lifting his sister-in-law off the floor in a bear hug.
“We always have room for you,” she assured him. “Why didn’t you call and let us know you were coming?” She grinned. “Or do I need to ask? Were you afraid Mick would tell you to stay away?”
Thomas laughed. “He can’t scare me away anymore. With our mother and you around, and Kevin working for me, I have allies here.”
“You certainly do,” Megan said. “Now come in. We’re just about to sit down, so your timing’s perfect.”
“Maybe I’d better find Mick first, so he doesn’t keel over in Ma’s pot roast at the sight of me.” He regarded her hopefully. “That is what we’re having, right? I thought I sniffed it in the air when you opened the door.”
“It is, indeed. Mick’s in the den. Go on in, while I start rounding up everyone else. That can take awhile when the kids are absorbed in one of those video games they seem to love.”
Thomas wandered down the hall to his brother’s den. He found Mick behind a closed door, puffing on a pipe.
“If Ma catches you in here with that thing, she’ll have a fit,” he taunted as he walked in. “She only put up with Pop smoking a pipe because she never could deny him anything. He always claimed it reminded him of being back in Ireland.”
“It does the same for me. It reminds me of the trips they took us on,” Mick said, while regarding him with surprise. “What brings you down here? You usually don’t show your face except on holidays.”
“Only time I know for a fact I’m welcome,” Thomas admitted. “Is it okay? Do you think you and I can be civil today?”
Mick shrugged. “That’s always an iffy proposition, but I think we’ve done a pretty good job of mending fences recently. You were there when I needed you when I was trying to get Megan to marry me again. I won’t forget that.”
“Of course you haven’t forgotten all of my sins from the past, either, have you?” Thomas said, referring to the fact that he’d taken the drastic step of turning Mick in to the authorities when he’d wanted to take some shortcuts in protecting the environment back when all three of them—he, Mick and Jeff—had been developing Chesapeake Shores.
“You’re right. I’m not likely to forget that,” Mick said. “But the truth is, now that I’ve had time to think things through, I admire the way you stood up for what you believed in, even if it was a darned nuisance at the time.”
Thomas stared at him incredulously. “You mean that?”
“I do, but I’ll call you a liar if you repeat it. The family enjoys thinking we’re at odds.”
“O’Briens do seem to enjoy their little feuds, don’t they?” Thomas agreed. “Have you seen Jeff lately?”
“Here and there around town. We’re not sitting around sipping coffee at Sally’s, if that’s what you’re asking. And he does manage our properties in the business district, though most of the time when I have questions about that, I ask his daughter. Susie’s a smart girl.”
“She is, indeed,” Thomas concurred. “Think she’ll ever marry that young man who claims he’s not dating her?”
“That’s a puzzler,” Mick said. “I’d have had them in church by now, but Jeff seems to be oblivious to the situation.” He gave Thomas a quizzical look. “So, why are you here? You didn’t come for a sparring match with me, did you? Was Ma’s pot roast the lure?”
“Truth be told, I was lonely,” Thomas admitted. “But if you tell anyone that, I’ll call you the liar.”
Mick’s expression registered surprise. “I’ve never heard you say such a thing before. What’s going on?”
“I woke up this morning and realized there wasn’t a single person in my life who cared what I was up to today,” he admitted with rare candor. “I hope you know how lucky you are.”
“Believe me, I know I’m blessed,” Mick said, eyeing him worriedly. “What you need is a woman in your life, maybe even kids. You’re not too old to have it all, if that’s what you want. I thought you were happily married to your work. Your wives certainly thought that, too.”
“It’s true. There’s no question that I sacrificed two good women to spend all my time with it,” Thomas lamented. “That doesn’t mean I don’t miss having a person to confide in, someone to share my bed or a laugh at the end of the day. You must have missed that when Megan was gone.”
“No question about it,” Mick agreed. “Neither of your ex-wives had remarried last I heard. Give ‘em a call.”
Thomas shook his head. “It’s a rare thing to be able to go back again. You and Megan have pulled it off, and believe me, I envy you for that, but it won’t work for me. Those ties are good and broken. My own fault, too.”
“Well, surely there are available women in Annapolis who’d jump at the chance to go out with you. You’ve a successful career. And you have those handsome O’Brien genes, so you’re not too hard on the eyes. If you need a little coaching when it comes to charm, I could give you a few tips.”
Thomas laughed. “Charm is not my problem. Neither is a lack of abundance of available women.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I just haven’t found the right one,” he told his brother. “And since she’s unlikely to be sitting at your dining room table, we should probably let this drop for now. Ma’s pot roast and your family’s company will be enough to console me for one more day. Thanks for not tossing me back out your door.”
Mick threw an arm around his shoulder as they left the den. “Ma wouldn’t allow it,” he said. “And if it comes down to it, I wouldn’t want to try.”
Thomas savored the rare moment of peace between them. Coming here today had been the best decision he’d made in a while, even if it meant going home knowing just how much his own life was lacking.
Somehow Heather had ended up at the dining room table sandwiched between Connor and Mick, who’d ceded his usual spot at the head of the table to his brother Thomas. She cast a desperate look across the table in Shanna’s direction, but Kevin’s wife only grinned. Next to her, Connor squirmed, which proved he was no more comfortable about the situation than she was.
Mick passed her a plate of home-baked yeast rolls, the kind few people bothered to make anymore.
“Have two,” he encouraged her. “You need to put on a couple of pounds. Chasing after that son of yours requires stamina.”
“Heather looks just fine, Dad,” Connor contradicted. “Leave her alone.”
“I’m just saying, she should keep up her strength, especially when she doesn’t have a man around to help her out,” Mick countered.
“Lots of single women manage careers and kids just fine,” Heather said, but neither man paid a bit of attention. They scowled at each other over her head.
“You making ends meet with your shop?” Mick asked.
Heather flushed. “It’s doing better each week.”
“You need to speak up if you need anything,” Mick said. “I’ll see that you have it. You’re part of this family now, even if your name’s not O’Brien. That boy of yours has O’Brien blood.”
Connor started to rise out of his chair, but a warning glance from his grandmother had him sitting back down. “Dad,” he said tightly, “if Heather and little Mick need anything, I’ll take care of it. They’re not your concern.”
Mick scowled at him. “Family’s family,” he responded flatly. “No matter how they came to be that way.”
Sensing that an explosion was just seconds away, Heather looked from one man to the other. “My son and I are just fine. If we need help from anyone, I know how to ask for it. Now, why don’t we enjoy this meal that Nell has made. The pot roast is delicious.”
“It is, indeed,” Thomas chimed in enthusiastically. “Ma, you still make the best pot roast I’ve ever tasted.”
“And I want you to teach me, Gram,” Bree said. “Jake says I’m a disaster in the kitchen.”
“You don’t have any patience,” Nell told her. “And it’ll only get worse once you have that baby you’re carrying. You won’t have two seconds to concentrate on the meal you’re preparing.”
“Now that’s discouraging,” Jake said with an exaggerated groan.
Nell gave him a chiding look. “Stop your complaining. That baby is yours, young man. And I’ll see to it the two of you don’t starve to death, the same way I did around here when Megan had her hands full with all of you.”
Bree grinned. “Thanks, Gram.”
Abby had listened to the exchange quietly, then turned to her grandmother. “You haven’t offered to set foot in my kitchen,” she said, feigning a pout. “I’m a working mother, too.”
“With a husband who works at home,” Gram said. “And a nanny.” She wagged a finger at the rest of them. “Don’t any of you be getting ideas about this. I’m not providing meals on wheels at this stage of my life. One of these days, I expect somebody to take over these Sunday dinners as well.”
Heather laughed at the audible groans from around the table.
“Please don’t let it be Mom,” Kevin pleaded.
Megan looked up at the comment, chuckling. “Little chance of that, I assure you. Like Bree, I can probably keep us from starving, and maybe not even poison anybody along the way, but it won’t be anything like Nell’s meals. I vote we nominate and train someone else.” She turned her gaze to Kevin. “Didn’t you have to prepare meals for a crowd when you were an EMT? There’s nothing that says a man can’t take over these family meals, right?”
Kevin looked a little pale. “Now, hold on here,” he began, but Shanna was already nodding. “He makes a terrific spaghetti and meatballs, and his lasagna’s not bad, either.”
Mick scowled at his older son. “Where’d you learn to cook, boy? At the Gianellis’? You didn’t learn Italian cooking from Ma, I guarantee that.”
“Hey, you put me in the kitchen, you eat what I know how to cook,” Kevin retorted.
Heather chuckled at the exchange. There was something about this family that never failed to enchant her. Growing up as an only child, she’d envisioned scenes just like this one. And here she was, in the middle of one of them … yet not quite a part of it.
She risked a glance toward Connor and saw that he was studying her, sympathy in his eyes. He knew how much she’d wanted this, understood what moments like this meant to her. And yet he’d still denied her the right to claim this family as her own. Even if they’d stayed together on his terms, she’d have felt like an outsider here, no matter how welcoming everyone tried to be.
Suddenly fighting tears, she pushed back her chair, murmured an excuse, then fled the dining room.
Grabbing her coat from the hall closet, she went outside and ran across the yard, oblivious to the rain. Standing on the edge of the cliff, she studied the pounding white-caps on the normally placid bay. The tumult matched the feelings roiling inside of her.
“Heather?”
Connor, of course. She turned to find him holding her scarf, her gloves and an umbrella. It was almost enough to put a smile back on her face. Almost, but not quite.
“You should come back inside,” he said, a worried frown on his face.
She shook her head. She didn’t want to face the curious stares or the unspoken questions about what had upset her. She saw the same puzzlement on Connor’s face, even though he should have known exactly what sent her running from the house.
“Want me to drive you home?” he asked. “I can bring the baby back later.”
She regarded him gratefully. “Would you mind?”
“If that’s what you really want, I’ll be happy to take you.”
“It’s what I want,” she said at once.
“Okay, then,” he said, though he looked vaguely disappointed.
He led the way to his car, settled her inside, then turned on the heater. It was mostly a wasted effort, since they’d be at her apartment before it warmed up much. They rode in silence for the few minutes it took to reach the alley that ran behind the shops and apartments.
“I’m sorry,” he said as she was about to open the door.
She paused and met his gaze. “For?”
He seemed to be struggling to find the words. “I know how badly you wanted to be part of a big family. It must be hard to be there in the middle of mine.”
She nodded. “It just makes me think about what could have been, that’s all. Don’t blame yourself. It’s not as if you dangled some promise in front of me and then yanked it away.”
He shook his head. “But in a way, that’s exactly what I did, and I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
Heather sighed. “I know that. Sometimes things just happen. I should go inside, and you need to get back. Please apologize to everyone for me.”
“No apology necessary. I’ll see you in a couple of hours, okay? I’ll wait till after the baby has his nap before I bring him home. That way you’ll have time to get some rest, too.”
“I’ll probably go downstairs,” she said. “I need to catch up on some things in the shop.”
“You need rest more,” he said.
“Looking after me isn’t your job any longer,” she told him, trying to protect herself from the way his caring made her feel. It might be an illusion, but she felt cherished.
He shrugged. “I can’t help it. Old habits are hard to break. I’ll bring some leftovers when I come. You barely touched your meal, and you completely missed dessert. Word is it’s Gram’s apple pie. There’s none better. I’ll bring you a slice.”
She chuckled. “You’re no better than your dad, you know. You’re trying to fatten me up.”
Connor winced at the comparison, then shrugged it off. “I’m bringing the pie, and I’m going to sit right here while you eat every bite. You’ll thank me later.”
The temptation to slide over and kiss him was suddenly so overwhelming, Heather forced herself to throw open the car door and bolt without responding. Only after she was upstairs in her apartment, with the door safely locked behind her, did she release the breath she’d been holding.
Heaven help her! When an O’Brien turned on the charm and showed his soft, caring side, what mortal woman could possibly resist? And yet somehow, she knew she had to. Her future depended on it.
When Connor had seen Heather standing on the edge of the cliff with rain soaking her, he’d wanted desperately to sweep her into his arms and carry her into the house, into his bed and spend the rest of the afternoon warming her up with his body heat. He’d settled for handing her gloves and scarf to her and holding an umbrella over her head because he’d known she would allow no more. Her wary gaze had been a warning to tread carefully.
Driving away from her apartment just now, knowing she was upset and that he was responsible, had been just as hard.
But neither of those things prepared him for walking back into his house and facing down the judgmental stares of his entire family.
“Where’s Heather?” Megan asked, her expression filled with concern.
“I drove her home,” he told his mother. “She apologizes for running out. She wasn’t feeling well.”
“Feeling left out, more than likely,” Mick said, showing surprising insight for a man who was usually oblivious to subtleties.
From across the table, Abby scowled at him. “Connor, I just don’t understand why you’re being so pigheaded. Anyone can see that you love this woman.”
“I do,” he agreed readily. “It’s not enough.”
“Well, of course it’s not,” Mick said with undisguised disgust. “She had your baby. She has a right to expect you to make an honest woman of her. That’s what I expect from you, too.” He frowned at Connor. “And I don’t want to hear any more of this garbage about not believing in marriage.”
“Well, I don’t,” Connor said belligerently, turning to the rest of his family. “No offense intended to those of you who do. You get to live your lives the way you want to. Show me the same courtesy.”
“Even if your stance is costing you the woman you claim to love and your son?” Thomas asked mildly. “Everyone here just wants to see you happy. If you can tell us that you are, then God bless.”
“Well?” Mick prodded, picking up where Thomas had left off. “Let’s hear how happy you are.”
Connor remained stubbornly silent. Only the knowledge that bolting from the room would be an act of cowardice kept him in place.
“Enough,” his grandmother said. “Connor has to find his own way, the same as the rest of you have. Megan, Jess, why don’t you clear the table, and I’ll bring out the pie and ice cream.”
Relieved to have a reprieve, Connor sighed. Kevin gave him an amused look.
“You don’t actually think you’re off the hook, do you?” his big brother asked.
“I was hoping,” Connor admitted.
“Not likely,” Trace told him.
“In fact, something tells me the crowd’s just getting warmed up,” Jake added.
Sensing unity, Mick gave him a benevolent look. “You won’t win this one, Connor. Marry the woman.”
“Even if I think marriage inevitably leads to heartache?” he asked. “Even though I see proof of that every single day?” He turned to his uncle. “What about you? Back me up here. You’ve divorced twice. You know a piece of paper doesn’t guarantee anything.”
Thomas gave him a pitying look. “Being married was the happiest time of my life. I loved both of my wives. You won’t find me arguing against the potential joy of marriage. When it works, it’s worth every bit of struggle it takes to get it right.”
“And yet, here you are, with us on a Sunday afternoon,” Connor retorted.
“And I’d give anything to have it otherwise,” Thomas said. “I’d go back to either one of my wives, if they’d have me, but sadly I burned those bridges. If the opportunity arises and I find another woman to love, it won’t take me but a minute to take that walk down the aisle again.”
“Don’t say that in front of Gram,” Kevin warned. “You know how she feels about divorce because of the church. In her eyes, Dad and Mom were never divorced in the first place, so that wedding they had back on New Year’s Eve was nothing but a renewal of vows. She’s probably lighting candles right and left for you after two divorces.”
Thomas grimaced. “Believe me, I’ve heard Ma’s opinion on the subject more than once. I’m just saying that when it comes to marriage, I’m a believer. People were meant to go through life with a partner at their side who loves them unconditionally.”
“Yet another triumph of hope over reality,” Connor said cynically.
Again, Thomas’s expression was filled with pity. “What do any of us have if we don’t have hope?” he asked. “Why, even at the bottom of Pandora’s box, there was hope.”
Connor glanced around the table, looking for an ally, but everyone there was nodding at Thomas’s remark. Abby grinned at him.
“You’re outnumbered, little brother. Give in gracefully.”
“Never,” he said out of habit. Let them all live their lives blinded to the pitfalls of marriage. He wasn’t going to fall into that trap. For every happy couple they could point to, even in this room, he could find another five who were miserable. If they spent even a day in his office, listening to one tale of misery and heartbreak after another, they’d be stripped of these rose-colored glasses they were wearing.
“Live in your dream world,” he told them, standing up. “I’m going upstairs to check on my son.”
“You’ll miss Gram’s pie,” Bree said, looking shocked. “You never miss Gram’s pie.”
“The peace and quiet will be worth the sacrifice,” he declared. “Just be sure there’s a slice left over for me to take to Heather later.”
A grin spread across his sister’s face, as she patted her belly. “But I can have yours, right? After all, I’m eating for two.”
Despite his sour mood, Connor chuckled. “It’s all yours, Bree, as long as Jake thinks he can roll you home after lunch.”
“I’ve got it covered,” Jake said, sliding an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “That’s why I brought along the wheelbarrow.”
Bree poked him in the ribs. “You’ll pay for that.”
Connor regarded them triumphantly. “See what I mean? A couple of ill-considered words here and there, and even the happiest marriage can teeter on the brink.”
Bree gazed up at her husband with a totally smitten expression. “I don’t think you have to worry about that with us, little brother. We’re in this for the duration.”
“Amen to that,” Jake agreed, kissing her soundly. “The occasional spat or even a poke in the ribs just livens things up.”
A grin spread across Bree’s face. “We get lively all the time.”
“Which is how she ended up pregnant,” Jake said.
Connor listened to the exchange, expecting to hear a false note, something to indicate that things weren’t as rosy as Bree and Jake would have everyone believe. Apparently they were exactly as they appeared to be, blissfully happy.
And he was happy for them. He really was, even if it put a tiny nick in his rock-solid theory. After all, every rule had its exceptions.
5
After drying off and changing her clothes, Heather went downstairs to the store just as she’d told Connor she’d planned to do. Truthfully, her motivation was less about the work that needed to be done than it was about not being in her apartment when Connor returned with little Mick. Right now that apartment was her haven, someplace with no memories whatsoever of Connor. It was exactly what she needed if she was to have her fresh start.
If Connor visited, even for a few minutes, there was a huge risk that it could change the way she felt about her new home. She’d have to grapple with images of him being there, seated, if only for moments, on her new sofa. His scent might linger in the cushions. It was hard enough to keep him out of her head as it was. That’s why she hadn’t let him past the threshold when he’d arrived unexpectedly earlier.
Downstairs, she spent an hour on paperwork, opened a box of new fabric and put the bolts on display, then found herself at loose ends. She picked up the quilt she’d promised to make for Megan, another Chesapeake Shores scene, this time of the family’s home overlooking the bay. She’d worked on simplifying the design for days, using photos to get not only the images she wanted but the colors that would capture the scene. She’d assembled her fabrics and started the work during lulls in business the day before.
Though she’d made several traditional quilt patterns over the years, she found special satisfaction and creative freedom in doing this kind of folk art quilt. If Megan was right about her talent, these would distinguish her shop from any others in the immediate region.
And if she decided to do custom scenes for her customers, she could probably charge even more for them. Or she could assemble a collection of such quilts and even have a show. She could do it right here, or she could have a more formal showing next door at Megan’s increasingly respected art gallery. That could boost prices even higher, she suspected, still a bit stunned by Megan’s assessment of her quilts’ worth.
Sitting in a rocker she’d placed near the front window for better lighting, she pieced together a section of the O’Brien house with the kind of tiny, neat stitches she’d learned from her mother.
As always, any thought of Bridget Donovan filled her with nostalgia. How had they let things get so far off track? Of course it was because they’d both taken strong positions from which there was no backing down, pretty much the way she and Connor had done.
Ironically, she’d always thought herself capable of reason and compromise. Maybe, though, when something mattered so much, there was no room for compromise.
She wondered how her mother would feel if she knew that Heather had left Connor. Would she rejoice, or would she find it one more thing to criticize? There was no way to know without picking up the phone or going for a visit, and Heather simply wasn’t ready to do either. Not yet, anyway. She needed to get her feet back under her, to establish herself in her new life. Then, perhaps, she could withstand one of her mother’s pointed interrogations or her father’s disappointed looks.
A tap on the front door had her glancing up to spot Connor with their son in his arms. She put aside the quilt and let them in. Connor set little Mick down in his playpen, where he was immediately absorbed with his toys. Connor nodded toward the fabric she’d had in her lap.
“You working on something new?”
“It’s for your mother,” she said. “She admired another one of my quilts, so I’m doing something similar for her. It’s not very far along, though.”
Connor walked over and took a closer look, then turned to her with a surprised expression. “It’s our house!”
Heather grinned. “Thank goodness you recognized it. You have no idea what a relief that is.”
“It’s actually amazing. Have you done others like this? I only remember when you worked on the one that’s hanging in the window.”
“That’s a more traditional design,” she explained. “It’s the kind of quilt you’d find in a beach cottage, I think. At least that’s your mother’s theory, and I have sold several to the weekenders who have homes here. They love the old-fashioned look and feel of the cottage quilts, and they’re perfect for the old iron and brass beds so many people have found in antique shops in the area.”
“Did you make them all?” he asked. “When on earth did you find the time?”
She laughed. “Heavens, no. I’m not that fast. I’ve found several excellent Amish quilt-makers in the area, and I’ve bought quite a few quilts from them. So far I’ve resisted buying the machine-made quilts, but I may have to if I can’t keep up with demand.”
A frown knit his brow. “Can you make enough money selling quilts?”
She shrugged. “I hope so, but I’m also starting classes. Not only do I have several people signed up already, but they’ll all need supplies. And I’ve put out some flyers, so word’s getting around that I have fabric available, and a lot of women have been coming in to buy patterns and fabric for their own quilt projects.”
He hesitated, then said, “I suppose I have no right to say this, but I’m proud of you, Heather. Clearly you’re excited about this and have a vision to make it succeed.”
Heather was pleased by his approval. “Keep your fingers crossed that it goes well, or I’ll wind up back in a classroom.”
She was half-joking, but Connor apparently took her seriously.
“Would that be so awful? The schools around here won’t be as tough as the ones in Baltimore,” he said. “It would be a whole different experience. Don’t you have regrets about wasting your college degree?”
“Not really,” she said candidly. “I never felt about teaching the way I do when I walk in here every morning, knowing this business is mine. Connor, I doubt you can imagine what that’s like, to discover something you’re passionate about and turn it into a career. I never imagined that my love of quilting could be anything more than a hobby, yet here I am.”
He frowned. “You don’t think I understand that kind of passion? It’s exactly how I feel about law.”
Heather regarded him with skepticism. “I’m not a hundred percent certain about that.”
“Meaning?”
“To be honest, I’ve always thought you liked law as a way to get even, not as a way to ensure justice.”
He looked taken aback by the comment. “You don’t think much of me, do you?”
She saw the hurt in his eyes and regretted being so candid. “Oh, Connor, it’s not that. I love you. That’s why it’s so hard to see what you’re doing to yourself with the kind of cases you take. I know it sounds dramatic, but I almost feel as if you’re selling your soul.”
“The cases I take—and win, by the way—will get me a partnership in a very prestigious law firm, which means you and our son will never want for anything,” he responded defensively.
“I appreciate that you want to support little Mick, but we could get by on less. I’d rather have you truly happy.”
“You could ensure that if you’d just come home,” he said, then waved off the remark before she could respond. “Never mind.” He regarded her with resignation. “I know that’s not happening, not now that you’ve apparently made a new life for yourself here.”
He looked for an instant as if he wanted to say more, maybe even to plead his case once again. Heather waited, wondering if he was about to take a step closer and kiss her the way he might have done a few months ago. His kisses, always intoxicating, always persuasive, never failed to move her.
But the joy and contentment she found in his arms was fleeting. Once her feet touched down on solid ground again, she had to face the same reality. She and Connor were as close as they would ever be. They couldn’t grow together as married couples did.
Instead of reaching for her now, though, he backed away. He shoved his hands in his pockets as if he feared making a move that would be rebuffed.
“I suppose I should get on the road,” he said. “I have some case files I need to go through tonight.”
“More divorces, of course,” she said. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted the bitter, judgmental tone of them.
As she’d expected, his expression immediately turned defensive again. “Of course. That’s the kind of law I do.”
“And you’re very good at it,” she admitted. “Your clients are lucky to have you. I just think it’s sad to be surrounded by people who are so miserable and embittered.”
He held her gaze, tried to make his case. “Heather, don’t you get it? People who are going through a tough time emotionally need to have someone in their corner they can count on to protect their interests.”
“Of course I get that,” she said. “But it’s as hard on you as it is on them. Every time you get caught up in their stories, you become more and more disillusioned about marriage.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said impatiently. “I’m the objective outsider, remember?”
She smiled wearily at the characterization. “If only that were true.”
“It is true,” he insisted.
“No, Connor, you take every case personally and add it to that mental ledger you keep as proof that marriage can’t work. Tell me, whose side are you on these days? Always the husband’s? Or have you started taking the wives as clients, at least some of the time?”
He seemed thrown by the question. “Most of my clients are men. What’s your point?”
“That in every single instance, you’re still trying to get payback for what you believe your mother did to your father all those years ago. As I said earlier, you’re still that little boy trying to get revenge because his mom walked out on his dad and on him.”
“That’s absurd!”
She held his gaze. “Is it?”
He was the first to blink. “I’m not having this discussion again,” he said finally. “I need to get on the road.”
She let the subject drop and nodded. “Drive safely.”
At the door, he hesitated again, looking torn, but then he walked out without another word. Heather stared after him and sighed.
Forget their fractured relationship, she thought. How could he not see that as long as he focused his law career on disintegrating marriages, he’d never find the kind of happiness he deserved?
One of little Mick’s toys landed at her feet just then. Relieved by the distraction, she laughed as she walked over to his playpen and picked him up.
“Tired of being ignored?” she teased, holding him close.
“Mama,” he said, patting her face.
She breathed in the scent of baby shampoo and powder. “No matter how bad things are for your daddy and me,” she told her boy, “I have you, and that’s the greatest gift anyone could ever have given me. I will always love your daddy because of that.”
“Da?” Mick said, looking hopefully toward the door.
“He’ll be back soon,” she promised. And she had to figure out how she was going to prepare herself for the next encounter, because clearly they weren’t getting one bit easier.
Thoroughly disgruntled by the parting conversation he’d had with Heather and by the way his family seemed to have accepted Heather and his son into their lives, Connor returned to Baltimore determined not to give any of them another thought. He had plenty of work to keep him occupied, including a couple of high-profile cases that were going to be very complicated and messy.
In fact, first thing Monday morning he had an appointment with a film director who’d been working on location in Baltimore, had established a residence here and then moved the movie’s star in to share the place with him. Naturally the tabloids had gotten wind of it. The director’s wife back in Los Angeles had been furious about the publicity, if not about the infidelity, and intended to take him apart in the divorce. Despite the man’s egregious behavior, Connor didn’t intend to let her get one penny more than she deserved.
To be honest, he’d taken the case more for its publicity value than out of any desire to defend the man’s bad behavior. If he could keep Clint Wilder from being taken to the cleaners, it would seal his status as the top divorce attorney in the region. He’d make partner at the law firm by the end of the year for sure.
Even as the thought occurred to him, he remembered Heather’s disdain for his motives. Okay, she was right, at least to an extent. But what was wrong with wanting to be successful? Wasn’t that what most people wanted, to be the best at whatever career they’d chosen?
Still, on Monday morning as he listened to Wilder’s side of the mostly sordid tale, he couldn’t help thinking what Heather’s reaction would be. She’d be horrified that Connor would take the husband’s side over his wife’s. Connor had a momentary twinge about it himself, especially as Wilder boasted that it wasn’t the first time he’d slept with the leading lady in his films, just the first time his wife had gotten wind of it and been publicly humiliated.
“I don’t know what she expected,” the director said, sounding genuinely bewildered. “She stays at home with the kids. What am I supposed to do? Look, just offer her the house, support money for the kids and some kind of monthly alimony. Make it all go away.”
He handed Connor a piece of paper with some suggested figures. Connor glanced at them and shook his head. Even by his usually conservative standards, these would never fly. Not when this man made millions.
“Look, I’ll do what I can, but it may not be so easy to make this go away. You’ve been married a long time, and this isn’t the first time you’ve strayed. Her lawyer could rip you apart. If she gets a sympathetic judge, you’ll wind up paying three or four times this amount.”
The director leveled a look at him that probably intimidated every actor on his set. “Don’t let that happen,” he said quietly. “Understand?”
Connor nodded. All he could do was offer his best advice. In the end, it was his client’s decision. “I’ll be back in touch as soon as I’ve spoken to your wife’s lawyer.”
“Tell that little weasel I have plenty of dirt of my own I can throw at her,” Wilder told him. “If he wants to get tough, I’ll be tougher, and I’ll walk away with the house and the kids. She’ll wind up with nothing. She was barely one step out of the gutter when I met her, and I can see that she winds up back there.”
Connor felt his blood turn cold at the man’s vicious words. For all of his go-for-the-jugular tactics, he still clung to at least some sense of respect for women. Sadly, though, he had dealt with enough men who thought their own behavior should be exempt from scrutiny to recognize a man willing to play hardball. Usually he liked having the kind of leverage necessary to make the other side squirm. Maybe because of last night’s conversation with Heather, today he was the one squirming. The whole thing suddenly seemed so darn sleazy and cruel.
Ironically, it wasn’t Heather’s face he saw in his head, but Gram’s. He heard her reminding him over and over that Megan deserved his respect, even when he was angriest at what she’d done to the family. Gram would be appalled by Clint Wilder, a man willing to publicly sully his wife’s reputation out of greed.
In the end, though, Connor knew he would win for the director in court, because that’s what he did. But for the first time, at the end of the day, he didn’t feel entirely good about it.
When the firm’s senior partner, Grayson Hudson, walked into his office and asked about the case later, Connor shrugged. “It’ll get a lot of publicity,” he said, as if that were all that mattered.
“Just make sure the firm looks good,” Grayson told him. “You’re very good at what you do, Connor. That’s why I used you myself when Cynthia and I split up. But your tendency to go for broke can stir up sympathy for the other side. You make sure that man’s wife isn’t going to come through this looking like Mother Teresa, you hear?”
Connor thought about Wilder’s veiled references to his wife’s past. “Doubtful, sir,” he said confidently.
“Just do your homework, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Not to worry. I always do.”
After all, Connor reflected, wasn’t he the one who was known in his family for having very little faith in the human race? He left next to nothing to chance. Even though he had Clint Wilder’s word that his wife had skeletons in her closet, he’d put a private detective to work checking her background within five minutes of the man walking out of his office. He wasn’t about to enter a mediation room or a courtroom without knowing everything there was to know about the other side.
Using the dirt, though? That was another matter and one he had no idea how he would handle.
Though he was immersed in work, Connor still wasn’t able to keep Heather out of his head. Every time he drew up a line of attack in another case, he heard her voice questioning his tactics and his motives. It was getting annoying.
In fact, just being unable to get her out of his head was annoying. The only way he could think of to change that was to put his social life on a fast track.
For the next couple of weeks, he spent his evenings hitting every bar in town with various colleagues from his law firm. Though he met plenty of attractive, intelligent professional women, not a one of them held a candle to Heather. Her image haunted him.
He reached for the phone a half-dozen times a day, tempted to call so he could hear the sound of her voice. He even had a built-in excuse, wanting to get updates on their son. It was downright pitiful that he even considered resorting to that.
In the end, he resisted because he knew she’d see through the excuse. Anyone in his family could tell him what was going on with little Mick. It wouldn’t take frequent calls to Heather to learn how his son was doing. Besides, she left him regular messages herself. They were too short, too unsatisfactory. What he needed was a real conversation.
His inability to get on with his life clearly meant that he needed to try harder.
The next woman he met, he asked on a date, then spent an evening in one of Baltimore’s finest restaurants being bored out of his mind. It seemed all she cared about was whether he’d met any of the stars in Clint Wilder’s movie. He repeated the pattern for another couple of weeks, then finally conceded he was wasting his time.
On the Saturday morning of Easter weekend, he got in his car and drove once again to Chesapeake Shores, using the excuse that it had been too long since he’d seen his son. He somehow managed to blame Heather for that, even though several of her messages had included an offer to bring little Mick for a visit.
When he arrived at the house, he found Gram in the kitchen with all of the kids coloring Easter eggs. Though the room was a disaster and Gram looked harried, her eyes were twinkling when she spotted him. She handed off his son, who clung happily to his neck. The boy’s smile of delight at Connor’s arrival immediately improved his mood.
“Get out of those fancy clothes and come in here to help me,” Gram commanded. “If I’m not careful, I’m going to wind up with my hair dyed pink.”
“It would be beautiful,” Caitlyn told her solemnly.
“We can do mine, too,” Carrie said. “But I want blue.” She danced around. “Don’t you think I’d be beautiful?”
“Gorgeous,” Connor agreed, laughing. He felt lighter than he had in days. His twin nieces, with their unexpected observations and uncensored comments, could lift his spirits in a heartbeat. Spending time with them and the rest of the family was exactly what he’d needed.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised his grandmother.
Taking little Mick with him, he changed into an old T-shirt and a pair of cutoff jeans, then hurried back to the kitchen and settled his son in a high chair.
“How’d you get roped into doing this?” he asked Gram.
“Everyone’s working today,” she explained. “It’s a busy weekend in town, so Shanna, Heather, Bree and your mother are all at their shops. Abby went to help Bree deliver flowers. It seems everybody in the universe is sending an Easter bouquet to someone in Chesapeake Shores this weekend.”
“Where’s Dad?”
“Mick took one look at the mess in here and mumbled something about checking on one of his Habitat for Humanity sites.” She chuckled. “I’ll have my revenge, though. Once we’re finished, I can walk off and leave this for him to clean up. That’s the joy of being able to go back to my own place these days. Now, you help your son. He doesn’t quite have the knack for dying eggs, instead of his hands.”
“Help me, too, Uncle Connor,” Davy pleaded.
Henry, who was still adjusting to this boisterous new family of his, stood back, looking on shyly.
Connor plucked three boiled eggs from a basket on the table. “Come on, guys, let a master show you how it’s done. Each of you grab a crayon. We’ll draw on a design first, okay?”
The designs weren’t much, but it hardly mattered. Connor guided little Mick’s tiny fingers as they drew a barely recognizable duck. Davy drew something that looked like Santa, though turned upside down it could have been a bunny. It was impossible to tell and probably risky to ask.
Connor glanced over to check on his other nephew, Kevin’s adopted son. Henry printed his name with careful letters, then thoughtfully did two more eggs for Kevin and Shanna. It hurt Connor’s heart to see how hard the boy was trying to fit in with his new family. All the caution was his. Kevin and Shanna, who’d been Henry’s stepmother in a previous marriage, adored Henry. And Davy was thrilled to have a big brother.
Henry glanced hesitantly at Connor. “Do you think I should do one for my dad, too? I sent him and my grandpa and grandma a card already. Shanna helped me pick it out.”
“If you want to make an egg for your dad, we’ll find a way to get it to him,” Connor promised, trying to imagine how hard it must be to be separated from his biological family because his father’s alcoholism and failing liver had made it impossible for Henry to remain with him.
Henry’s little face immediately brightened. “Cool!”
In the meantime, Carrie and Caitlyn were drawing elaborate patterns with bright colors, then dipping the eggs into the brightest dyes.
“Ours are best!” Carrie announced, jumping up and down.
“It’s not a contest,” Gram chided.
“That’s right,” Connor told her. “The contest comes tomorrow, when we see who can find the most eggs in the yard.” He tickled his boastful niece. “And I guarantee you I’ll win.”
“You’re too big to play,” Caitlyn said, dodging his attempt to tickle her. “Only kids get to hunt for eggs.”
“Hey, I’m a kid,” Connor protested.
“Are not,” Carrie said, giggling.
“Oh, honey, I’m afraid your uncle Connor is just a big kid,” Gram said sorrowfully. “I haven’t seen a sign of maturity yet.”
“Hey,” he protested.
“I doubt you want me to explain all my reasons for feeling that way,” Gram said, her gaze steady.
Connor sighed. “No need.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Maybe I’ll get my boy here cleaned up and take him back to his mother,” he said.
“That sounds like a fine idea to me,” Gram said approvingly. “Be sure she’s going to join us for Easter dinner tomorrow after church.”
Connor nodded. Somehow the prospect of issuing that invitation to a simple family gathering and getting the hoped-for “yes” held more allure than all those endless bar crawls and dates he’d been on for the past few weeks.
And spending a carefree afternoon dying Easter eggs with his son, his nieces and his nephews was a thousand times better than dealing with the Clint Wilders of the world. Apparently, despite Heather’s oft-stated fears, he hadn’t gone so far over to the dark side yet that he couldn’t see that.
6
During Connor’s absence over the past few weeks, Heather had once again been able to establish a new rhythm for her life and put him out of her mind. Her days were occupied with the store, getting to know her regular customers, even making a few friends among them, and keeping her son out of mischief. Nights were harder, when the darkness settled around her and the brand-new bed she’d purchased felt too big, too empty.
Of course, there were reminders everywhere. For one thing, her son looked exactly like his daddy and his grand-daddy, but she’d gotten better and better at keeping the two separate in her head. Little Mick was her life now. Connor was her past. She just needed to keep reminding herself of that. She assured herself she was getting better at it every day.
Unfortunately, though, there was more she couldn’t control. Connor’s family tended to pop up everywhere she turned. It was both a blessing and a curse.
Still, with every day that passed, she felt herself growing stronger, her initially uncertain resolve deepening into real conviction that she was on the right path with her life. Everything was falling into place just as she’d hoped.
And yet, all it took to change her perspective was one quick, unexpected glimpse of Connor in the doorway of her shop, holding their exhausted son in his arms. Her resolve immediately turned to mush, and her traitorous heart skipped several beats.
Why did the man have to look so darn good, even with his thick hair mussed and his rumpled clothes apparently plucked from the back of his closet, most likely left over from high school? It was one thing for him to turn her head when he was clean-shaven and wearing Armani. It was quite another to have her heart catch when he’d taken zero care with his appearance. It was just one more reminder that it was the man and his charm, not anything else, that had captivated her.
She tried to hide her reaction by turning quickly to one of the students in her newly organized quilting class to answer a question. Bree’s sister-in-law, Connie, and Abby’s sister-in-law, Laila, had been two of the first to sign up for the class, and Heather sensed they were going to become friends well beyond the fact that they were part of the same huge extended O’Brien family. They’d lingered after class with a barrage of questions.
Connie seemed to sense Heather’s sudden distraction, turned and caught sight of Connor in the doorway.
“Well, well, look who’s here,” she taunted, then started laughing as Connor actually came inside. “Looks as if somebody got more Easter egg dye on himself than on the eggs.”
Heather followed the direction of her gaze and noted that Connor’s T-shirt did indeed look as if it had been tie-dyed by an amateur … or a pair of tiny hands. There was a streak of bright blue dye on his cheek, too. His hair, normally carefully groomed, stood up in spikes with the occasional wayward curl. Once more she noted that he looked charmingly rumpled and devastatingly sexy.
“Happy Easter, Connor,” Laila said, then grinned. “I wish somebody would tuck a man like you in my Easter basket tomorrow morning.”
Connie nudged her in the ribs. “Watch it! He’s taken.” She cast a warning look in Heather’s direction.
“Actually, he’s not,” Heather said mildly, taking her son from his arms.
“Hey, I never said I wanted Connor,” Laila protested. “I said I wanted a man like him.” A grin spread. “But minus the flaws.”
Heather noted that Connor’s cheeks were flushed, even though he’d obviously known both women for most of his life, was indirectly related to them, and had to be used to their teasing.
“Hey, let’s not be passing me around like some old football, ladies,” he grumbled. “I have feelings. Let’s talk about your love lives for a minute.”
“Sadly, I have none,” Laila said, then brightened. “Maybe you could bring home a couple of your lawyer friends one of these days. We need some hot new blood in this town, right, Connie?”
“That would definitely work for me,” Connie confirmed.
Connor’s gaze landed on Heather. “And you?”
“I know your colleagues,” she said, holding his gaze. “I’m not interested.” She turned to Laila and Connie. “Boring workaholics.”
“Ah, been there, done that,” Laila said with regret. “Well, I’d better take off. I promised Abby and Trace I’d watch the girls tonight so they can have an evening to themselves.”
“And I have to get home before Jenny goes out on her date,” Connie said. “Even though her curfew hasn’t changed in two years, if I don’t repeat it ten times before she leaves the house, she’ll claim she didn’t remember. Then we get to fight over whether she should be grounded for being late.”
“See you next Saturday,” Heather called after them, watching ruefully as they left her alone with Connor.
“Watch it with those two,” Connor told her, a grin tugging at his lips. “They’ll fill your head with all of my youthful misdeeds.”
“I pretty much know everything I need to know about you,” Heather replied. “I doubt they could say anything to sway me for or against.” She studied him curiously. “Did you ever date either one of them?”
His gaze locked with hers. “Would it bother you if I had?” he asked, almost sounding hopeful.
“No, I’m just wondering. They’re both beautiful, intelligent women.”
“They are,” he agreed. “But Connie’s a few years older, and by the time I was dating, she was already pretty serious about the man she eventually married.”
“They’re divorced now,” Heather reminded him.
“A single mother with a teenage daughter’s not going to be interested in me,” he said candidly. “Besides, Jake would beat the living daylights out of me if I led his sister on. Ditto with Trace. He’s very protective of Laila. Both of my brothers-in-law know how I feel about marriage. They’d definitely object to me getting involved with either of their sisters.”
“You know what I don’t understand,” she said, carrying the now-sleeping Mick into the back room and settling him into his portable playpen, “How can you spend time with Jake and Bree, Trace and Abby, Kevin and Shanna and even your parents, and not see how happy they are?”
“I can’t deny they appear to be happy now,” Connor admitted, surprising her.
“Really?”
Then he had to go and ruin it by adding, “But it won’t last. It never does. Besides, appearances can be deceiving. Look at all the years my folks made each other miserable. The world thought they were just fine, and then it all blew up and my mom walked away.”
“And yet somehow you thought you and I could go on forever, as long as we didn’t legalize it,” she said. “Can’t you see how absurd that is?”
“Maybe it doesn’t make any sense to you, but I can’t change how I feel,” he said defensively. This time he put a halt to the topic. “Look, Gram wanted me to be sure you’re coming for Easter dinner tomorrow. Will you be there?”
Heather thought of how wonderful it felt being part of that big, rambunctious family, especially on holidays, but it was wrong. She wasn’t an O’Brien, and keeping up the pretense that she was hurt too much. She’d learned that on Connor’s prior visit.
“I think tomorrow little Mick and I will spend Easter on our own,” she said.
Connor’s gaze narrowed. “Because of me,” he guessed. “Look, please don’t stay away and keep little Mick from being there to hunt for eggs with his cousins. If it’ll make you more comfortable, I’ll go back to Baltimore in the morning. No one was expecting me to be here this weekend, anyway. It won’t be a big deal if I take off.”
“Absolutely not. This is your family, and you should spend the holiday with them. I’m the one who doesn’t belong.”
“That’s not true,” he argued. “You’ve come to mean a lot to all of them, especially my parents. And our son should be there.”
He held her gaze. “Please, Heather. Don’t let me chase you away.”
She sighed and relented, though not without real regret. Every time she saw him, it was now clear it was going to reopen old wounds. “Okay, we’ll come as long as we don’t chase you away, either.”
Connor regarded her with relief. “Fine. I’ll be there, too.” He pulled a stool over to the counter, sat down and studied her with an intense expression. “You know what I don’t get?”
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Sherryl Woods
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Home, heart and family. Sherryl Woods knows what truly matters. Heather Donovan never thought she’d be leaving Connor O’Brien, with their son in tow. Connor may be the love of her life, but she and her son deserve more than what Connor is willing to give. Chesapeake Shore is the perfect place to start over.With a new business, a new home and a welcoming embrace from the O’Brien family, Heather’s creating a new life for herself – without Connor. So when Connor starts coming around more often, testing her resolve and reminding her why she loves him, Heather is torn. Should she continue to follow her head or maybe it’s time she went back to trusting her heart…Healing families, healing hearts. In Chesapeake second chances happen in the most unexpected ways.