Читать книгу: «Harbour Lights»

Acclaim for New York Times bestelling author

Sherryl Woods

‘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

Coming soon

CHRISTMAS AT CHESAPEAKE SHORES

Many of Sherryl’s novels are available in eBook Please visit: www.mirabooks.co.uk

Harbour Lights

Sherryl Woods

A Chesapeake Shores novel

www.mirabooks.co.uk

Dear Friends,

From the time I was four, I spent my summers along the Potomac River not far from the Chesapeake Bay. My love for this locale has grown out of those carefree days spent swimming—not very well—in the river, walking along the beaches and, more recently, sitting on my front porch watching a bald eagle sit high in an old oak tree peering out at the water. There’s no place on earth quite like this in terms of beauty and tranquillity.

Though my love of the area grew over time, another member of my family was far more pro-active in seeking to save this vast estuary. My mother’s cousin, Tayloe Murphy, while in the Virginia House of Delegates and later as Director of Natural Resources for the state, has been heavily involved in both creating legislation and in oversight. He and others were my inspiration for some of the characters in Harbour Lights, including Mick O’Brien’s brother Thomas.

Of course, Mick’s son, Kevin, has his own love of this region and it helps him to begin the healing process as he returns to the fictional town of Chesapeake Shores with his son after his wife’s death in Iraq. I hope you’ll enjoy Kevin’s very emotional story and enjoy being back with all the O’Briens.

And if you ever have the opportunity, I hope you’ll visit the Chesapeake Bay and come to understand why the fight to preserve its natural beauty is so important.

All good wishes,

1

Thirteen months later

Kevin glanced out the window of his childhood bedroom. The yard that sloped down toward the Chesapeake Bay was decorated with balloons. Piles of presents sat on a picnic table next to a cake decorated with toy trucks, Davy’s favorite things. All of the O’Briens had gathered to celebrate his son’s second birthday, but Kevin could barely summon the energy to get out of bed. Despite his resolve to be strong for Davy, he’d pretty much been a wreck since Georgia’s death, not able to get a fix on anything, unable to make even the most basic decisions about his life.

He had made three decisions, though. He’d quit his job as a paramedic, he’d sold the town house, which was filled with memories of his too-brief marriage, and he’d moved home. At least here, he knew there were plenty of people who would love and look out for his son while he figured out what came next. That was something he really needed to get to … one of these days.

Someone pounded on the door of his room—his younger brother from the sound of it.

“Get your butt downstairs!” Connor bellowed. “The party’s about to start.”

Given his choice, Kevin would have crawled back into bed and pulled the pillow over his head to block out the sound of laughter coming from outside. He wouldn’t, though. For one thing, even if nothing else in his life made sense, his son was the most important person in it. Kevin wouldn’t let him down. For another, either Gram or his dad would be up here next, and either one of them had the power to shame him into doing what was right for the occasion.

“On my way,” he assured Connor.

He showered in record time, pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and slid his feet into an old pair of sneakers, then went downstairs. Only his youngest sister, Jess, was in the kitchen. She surveyed him, then shook her head.

“You’re a mess,” she declared.

“I showered. These clothes are clean,” he protested.

“Did you lose your razor? And maybe your comb?”

“Who are you?” he grumbled. “The fashion patrol?”

“Just calling it like I see it, big brother. Everyone else spruced up for the party. Turning two is a big deal.”

“Do you honestly think Davy’s going to care if I shaved?” he asked as he rubbed his hand over his unshaven jaw. He had shaved yesterday—or was it the day before? He couldn’t recall. Mostly the days slipped by in a blur.

“No, Davy won’t care today, but you’ll look like some derelict in the pictures. Is that the memory you want him to carry with him throughout his life? Last year on his first birthday it made sense that you looked ragged. It was only a few weeks after Georgia—”

“Don’t mention her name,” he snapped.

“Someone has to,” she said, looking him directly in the eye without backing down. “You loved her, Kev. I get that. You’re hurting and angry because she’s gone, but you can’t pretend she didn’t exist. She was that little boy’s mom. What are you planning to do, let him go through his entire life with the subject of his mother off-limits? What about his grandparents? Do you expect them never to mention their daughter’s name?”

“I can’t talk about her. Not yet.” He knew it was irrational, but somehow he thought if he didn’t talk about Georgia or her death, it wouldn’t be real. She’d still be out there, on the other side of the world, saving lives. She’d still walk through the door one day, back into his life.

“When, then?” Jess asked, her gaze unrelenting.

If he hadn’t been so annoyed, he might have admired her persistence. For a woman who rarely stuck with anything for long, Jess had certainly dug in her heels on this. Just his freaking luck.

“What do you expect me to say?” he snapped again. “A day? A month? Hell if I know when I’ll be ready.” Even as he spoke, he felt the sting of tears in his eyes. He hated the sign of weakness almost as much as he hated this whole conversation. “Just drop it, okay?”

Of course she didn’t. “Sit down,” she ordered, not cutting him any slack.

He didn’t like that Jess was turning the tables on him. His little sister had always come to him for advice. Now she was obviously planning to dole it out. Just like Georgia, once Jess got stirred up, she was going to speak her mind, whether anyone wanted to listen or not. Apparently this was one of those times. Kevin sat, mostly because he was too shaky not to and because she’d plunked a cup of much-needed coffee on the table to go with whatever words she was intent on dishing out.

She pulled a chair close and sat so that her knees were brushing his. She covered one of his hands with hers. The show of sympathy was almost his undoing.

“Listen to me, Kev. You need to get out of this house.”

Alarm shot through him. “Why? Has Gram said something? Is having Davy underfoot too much for her? Do she and Dad want me out of here?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know better,” she said impatiently. “This is your home. I wasn’t saying you should move. I was saying you need to get a life.” Her gaze, locked with his, was filled with compassion. “I know this is going to sound harsh, but somebody needs to say it. Georgia died. You didn’t. And Davy needs his dad, the real one, not the one who walks around here all day in a daze.”

He frowned at her. “I’m not drinking, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“Nobody said you were. Look, I’m saying all this now, before everyone else has a chance to gang up on you. You know it’s coming. You must. This family can’t keep their opinions to themselves worth a damn. It’s amazing we’ve all been so quiet for this long.”

He smiled, despite his sour mood. “You’re right about that.”

“Will you at least think about what I’ve said? If you promise to do that much, I’ll run interference and keep the others at bay a while longer. Abby, the mother hen, is champing at the bit to offer her own special brand of tough love. She’s worried sick that you haven’t snapped out of this dark mood.”

Since he would do just about anything to keep from being surrounded by all that well-meaning concern, especially from his oldest sister, he nodded. “There’s just one thing.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t have any idea at all what to do with myself.”

“You’re a paramedic,” she reminded him at once. “There are openings right here in town. I’ve checked.”

He shook his head. “No. I’ll never do that again.” His career was all twisted up in his mind with Georgia and how she’d died on a call to a market in Baghdad after an explosive device had been triggered, killing and wounding a bunch of innocent civilians. She and her team had arrived just in time for the second bomb to be detonated. Kevin knew his reaction, his refusal to put his EMT training to good use, wasn’t rational, but then he wasn’t operating much on reason these days.

“You sure about that?” Jess asked.

“A hundred percent.”

Her expression brightened. “Then I have an even better idea.”

He didn’t like the glint in her eyes one bit. Jess had always had a knack for getting into mischief. Ideas came fast and furiously with her. It was the follow-through that was lacking. Or had been, anyway, until she’d opened The Inn at Eagle Point. That seemed to have captured her complete attention. After a shaky start, she had the place running smoothly and successfully.

“What’s your idea?” he asked warily.

“A fishing charter,” she said at once, then rushed in before he could utter an immediate objection. “You could lease dock space at the Harbor Lights Marina. Come on, Kev, at least think about it. You spent half your life on the water as a kid. You always claimed it calmed you, even if you didn’t come home with a single rockfish or croaker. And naturally, because you didn’t really give two hoots about catching them, the fish practically jumped into your boat.”

“You want me to become a waterman?” he asked incredulously. It was a hard, demanding life, especially with the impact that farming and other human misdeeds were having on fish, crabs and oysters in the bay’s waters, to say nothing of what skyrocketing fuel costs had done to profit margins.

“Not exactly. I want you to take people out on your boat to fish.”

He gave her a wry look. “The only boat I currently own is barely big enough for me and one passenger, and I wind up rowing home more often than not because the motor’s unreliable.”

“Which is exactly why you’ll spend some of that trust fund money that’s sitting in the bank on a bigger, more reliable boat. Dad set up those funds for us to buy a home or start a business. I know you haven’t touched yours, so the start-up money’s there, Kev.”

“And you think this can become an actual career?” he asked skeptically.

“It’s not up there with saving lives,” she said pointedly. “But I get requests practically every day from guests at the inn who want to go fishing. There’s no one in town who does charters. Once in a while I can convince George Jenkins to take someone out, but he has the conversational skills of a clam.”

Kevin thought about the long, lazy days he and Connor had spent on the bay as boys. They were some of the best in his life. He hadn’t cared a fig about catching fish, just as Jess said, but he’d loved the peace and quiet of being on the water. Of course, if he had a boat full of strangers along, the tranquillity would pretty much be shattered. Yet somehow the idea took hold.

Jess regarded him hopefully. “You’ll think about it?”

There were a thousand practical things to be considered, but the idea held promise. He’d have to take classes to become licensed to be a captain, for example, and that would get him out of the house. Maybe that alone would be enough to keep everyone off his case.

He nodded slowly. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good! Now let’s go outside and spoil that son of yours rotten,” Jess said, dragging him to his feet. “You should see his haul of presents. They’re piled high. Davy doesn’t entirely understand yet that they’re his, so this should be fun.”

Fun wasn’t something Kevin had had in his life for a while now, but when he saw Davy running around on his chubby little legs, his mouth already streaked with chocolate frosting, he couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. And when Davy spotted his father and a smile spread across his face, Kevin felt a split second of pure joy. It was Georgia’s smile, as bright and carefree as she had been.

For the first time since his wife had died, the sorrow lifted briefly and he felt hopeful again.

Despite his promise to Jess, Kevin spent two more weeks holed up at home, passing his days with Davy and his evenings hiding out in his room away from Gram’s pitying looks and his father’s increasing impatience. Mick clearly had plenty to say to him, Kevin could tell, but apparently an edict from Gram had kept his father silent. He doubted that would last much longer.

To his surprise, it was Gram herself who broke the silence first. She joined him on the porch at dusk one evening, handed him a glass of iced tea and a plate of his favorite oatmeal raisin cookies and said, “We need to talk.”

“About?” Kevin asked, even more wary than he had been when Jess had made the same announcement. If Jess was good at uncomfortable, straight talk, it was because she’d learned from a master—their grandmother. Nell O’Brien had stepped in to raise them after their mother and father had divorced. She had a huge heart and a tart tongue.

“The way you’re moping around this house day in and day out,” she replied. “It’s not good for you, and it’s certainly not good for your boy. A child needs to expand his world, to see other children.”

Kevin frowned at that. “His cousins are here all the time.”

“Caitlyn and Carrie are almost eight now, and while they love playing with Davy, he needs to be with some youngsters his own age.” She gave him a penetrating look. “He needs to laugh, Kevin. When was the last time you got down on the ground and rough-housed with him, made him giggle?”

“Seems to me that Dad’s filling that role.” In fact, Mick seemed to delight in it.

“It’s his father who ought to be doing it, not his grandfather. When was the last time you took Davy into town for an ice-cream cone?”

“You took him just yesterday,” Kevin reminded her.

Gram gave him an impatient look. “Is that what I asked? I want to know when you took him.”

“I haven’t,” he admitted. “But I don’t see why that’s such a big deal. Davy’s got plenty of attention around here. That’s why I moved back to Chesapeake Shores.”

“So we could raise him for you?” she asked. The question was pointed, though her tone was gentle.

“No, of course not,” he retorted, then regretted his tone and sighed. “Maybe.”

“Kevin, we all know you’re grieving over Georgia, and there’s not a thing we wouldn’t do to help out, but you have to start living again. You have to give Davy a more normal life. I know Jess has talked to you about this, so I waited, but you’re showing no signs of changing. I can’t go on watching you shortchange Davy or yourself like this. It’s just plain wrong. You’re a vital young man with a lot of years ahead of you. Don’t waste them and live to regret it.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Kevin knew she was right. He just had no idea precisely what he could do about it, not when he was filled with so many conflicting emotions. He was angry about a war that had taken a child’s mother and left him a single dad. He was guilt-ridden about not having tried harder to make Georgia reconsider taking another tour in Iraq, even after just about everyone in his family had begged him to. And he was grieving for a vibrant young woman who would never know her son, who wouldn’t be there for his first day of school, his college graduation, his wedding.

He finally lifted his head and faced his grandmother. “Gram, I have no idea what to do. Some days just getting out of bed seems like a triumph.”

She nodded knowingly. “That’s the way I felt when your grandfather died. I’m sure it’s the way Mick felt when your mother left him alone with all of you children to raise. You know how he handled that.”

“By taking off for work every chance he got,” Kevin said bitterly.

“Do you think staying here and hiding out is any kinder?” she asked him.

The soft-spoken words hit him like a slap. “But I—”

She reached over and covered his hand with hers before he could argue that this was different.

“He didn’t intend any hurt, either, Kevin,” Gram said. “Mick was managing the only way he knew how. So are you. But both of you are better than that. Mick’s a little late in trying to make up for those absences. I don’t want you to wait till Davy’s grown before fixing this.”

“Where do I start?” he asked, genuinely at a loss. Plunging into a career taking out fishing charters, while it held some appeal, was more than he could cope with. It might require him to be civil to strangers, and he didn’t trust himself to do that. Not yet. Just look at how quickly he lost patience with the people he actually cared about.

Gram gave his hand a squeeze. “You take one step at a time. Tomorrow, I expect you to get away from this house. This first time, go into town while Davy’s down for his nap. Have lunch at Sally’s. Stop by Bree’s flower shop. Visit Jess at the inn and help her out for a couple of hours. It doesn’t matter. Just do one thing tomorrow that’s a step forward. The next day, take another.”

When she said it like that, when she didn’t ask for an overnight transformation or a leap into a whole new career as Jess had suggested, it seemed possible. Reasonable, even.

“I can do that,” he said eventually.

“Well, of course you can,” she said reassuringly.

He thought back to all the years when Gram had been left virtually on her own with him, his brother and sisters, while his mother was making a new life for herself in New York and Mick was roaming the world for work.

“Gram, did you ever have doubts after you moved in here to help Dad raise us?”

She laughed. “I didn’t have time for doubts, not with the five of you to run me ragged. Besides, I had the advantage of having raised your father and uncles. I already knew a thing or two.”

“I’ve been in a war. I’ve worked as a paramedic. None of that’s easy or predictable.” He shook his head. “But despite all that, there are days when the thought of raising Davy on my own scares me to death.”

“But you’re not on your own now, are you?” she reminded him lightly. “None of us are going to abandon you to the task. We just don’t want you to miss out on being the kind of father I know deep down that you want to be.”

“How’d you get to be so smart?” he teased, feeling lighter than he had in a long, long time.

“Live long enough and it’s amazing what you pick up,” she said as she stood. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you, Kevin. Never forget that.”

“As if you’d let me,” he grumbled.

She chuckled. “Yes, as if. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Thanks, Gram, for the cookies and the talk.”

She winked at him. “Can’t have one without the other.”

It was true, Kevin thought, as she left him alone. Gram’s serious talks had always been accompanied by freshly baked cookies—oatmeal raisin for him, chocolate chip for his sisters and peanut butter for Connor. The advice had always gone down more easily because of it. Just as it had tonight.

One step forward, he reminded himself. That’s all she was expecting.

Chances were, he thought wryly, one step was just about all he could manage.

The cappuccino machine was a complete mystery. If she’d had money to burn, Shanna would have tossed it across the room and let it shatter. But the success of her new business depended on making coffee and tea sales as brisk as selling books and games. And she needed this business to succeed in the worst way.

She’d poured every last dime she had into Word Games. She was hoping to combine her love of reading and board games like Scrabble, Clue, Sequence and Monopoly with her obsessive need for frequent caffeine fixes and turn it into something that would help her bring her life back into focus.

She’d picked Chesapeake Shores because it was a small seaside town, rather than an overwhelming city. On a prior visit, she’d been drawn in by its serenity, its friendly people. She’d noted the absence of any business similar to the one she wanted to open. Who could be at the beach without wanting a good book? Or a few games and puzzles to keep the kids occupied? She’d probably need to look into handheld electronic games, as well, but not only was the technology pricier than she could afford, it was a complete mystery to her. How could she sell something she couldn’t explain to her customers? Of course, half the teenagers in town could probably explain those games to her.

Though the idea of starting her own business was scary, it was exciting, as well. She’d loved every second of placing her initial orders. Now, she had plenty of stock, most of it still in boxes, and lots of ideas, jotted on Post-it notes stuck on a refrigerator in the shop’s back room or on the beat-up old desk she’d salvaged from a thrift shop.

What she needed next, more than anything, was a caffeine fix. Unfortunately, the stupid machine wasn’t cooperating. She couldn’t even read the instructions, which seemed to be in every language except plain English. There were, in fact, recognizable English words on the page, but added together they were indecipherable.

Since the cappuccino machine was too costly to replace, she heaved the world’s ugliest mug—a joke goodbye gift from her best friend—across the room instead. Naturally, it didn’t shatter, which Shanna would have counted as a blessing. Instead, it was caught by a startled man who’d just opened the front door.

She was about to apologize, but he was studying the awful orange mug with fascination. When he lifted his gaze to hers, there was a faint, but unmistakable twinkle in his dark blue eyes. It died quickly, but that glimpse of it had made her heart catch.

“The mug is pretty hideous, but do you really think that’s cause to put it out of its misery?” he inquired lightly.

“Actually the coffeemaker was on my hit list. The cup was just a less costly substitute.”

“Lousy instructions and a need for caffeine,” he guessed. “It’s a dangerous combination. Sally’s is a couple of doors down. Why don’t I buy you a cup of coffee before you try to break something else?”

Embarrassed, Shanna shook her head. “I think I can control myself until I figure this out.”

He hesitated, looking oddly torn, then stepped all the way inside. “At least let me take a look at those instructions,” he offered. “Maybe I’ll have better luck. I’m Kevin O’Brien, by the way. My sister owns the flower shop next door. Any idea where she is? There’s a closed sign on the door.”

Shanna shrugged. “Not a clue. I haven’t met a soul on the block yet. I’ve been totally focused on trying to get this place ready to open. I’m Shanna Carlyle.”

“I’m surprised Bree hasn’t been in here pestering you for information about your plans. She prides herself on knowing everything going on in town.”

“This all happened pretty fast,” Shanna said. “There was a waiting list of people looking for retail space on Main Street. I got a call that the prior occupant wanted to move to a bigger space and I could take over her lease. That was two weeks ago, and here I am.” She was babbling, but something about this man made her as nervous as a teenager meeting the sexy new kid in school for the first time.

“You’ve accomplished all this in two weeks?” he said, his amazement plain as he took in the fresh coat of paint and the stacks and stacks of boxes.

She gave him a wry look. The place was a disorganized mess. Still, it did look as if something might happen in here soon.

“I’d done a lot of my homework, knew the kind of inventory I wanted to carry and where to get it. All I had to do was establish my credit, which thankfully is good, and make some calls to vendors.” She shrugged. “Besides, I couldn’t afford a lot of downtime once I signed the lease. I need to get money coming in if I’m going to keep up with the rent on the shop space and the apartment upstairs.”

He surveyed the room and the piles of boxes. “What’s your target date for opening?”

“A week from Saturday.”

He looked skeptical. “Then you need help.”

“I can’t afford help.”

Once again, she noticed a faint hesitation, as if he thought he was going to hate himself for uttering what came next.

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t need to be paid,” he said eventually, his hands shoved in his pockets, his expression bland. “I have a little time to burn while I wait for Bree. I’d be glad to pitch in.”

Shanna stilled. Big-city jitters kicked in. Kevin O’Brien was definitely intriguing. And probably safe enough, if his sister owned the florist shop next door. She’d heard the name O’Brien around town, knew that a man named Mick O’Brien, in fact, had been the architect who’d designed and built Chesapeake Shores. The woman she’d dealt with at the management company had been an O’Brien, too.

“So, are you one of the O’Briens?” she asked. “I’ve read a little about Mick and I met Susie.”

“My father and my cousin,” he told her.

That was reassuring, but still, old habits kept her cautious. “I appreciate the offer to help, but I probably should do it myself. I have to figure out the placement for all this stuff as I go. And, as you can see, the shelves aren’t in yet. They’re not coming till tomorrow.”

He didn’t seem especially disappointed by her refusal. In fact, he almost looked relieved.

“Okay, then, no coffee from Sally’s, no help in here,” he said easily. “How about the cappuccino machine? Want me to take a crack at that?”

Not wanting to seem ungracious, Shanna finally nodded. “Sure. If you can get it working, your first purchase is on me.”

“You shouldn’t be offering to give books away,” he scolded as he studied the instructions, then sorted through the tools she’d spread out until he found the one he wanted. “Though my son will be delighted. Picture books are among his favorite things. I’m sure we’ll be frequent customers.”

Her heart did an odd little stutter step. She couldn’t have said for sure if it was disappointment or delight. Kevin was an attractive man, after all, but she loved kids. She was hoping the store would draw a lot of them.

“You have a son?”

He nodded. “Davy. He’s two.”

“Well, you or your wife will have to bring him in as soon as I open. I have a huge selection of picture books on order.”

For an instant, it looked as if Kevin had been frozen in time, almost as if he weren’t even breathing. Then he exhaled slowly and frowned as he concentrated on the cappuccino machine. Shanna could tell instantly that she’d said something wrong, but she had no idea what it might have been. Perhaps it was mentioning his wife. Maybe they were divorced, but wouldn’t she have their child? It sounded as if the boy lived with his dad.

Then she remembered. When she’d first come to Chesapeake Shores for a visit a year ago, recovering from her own very complicated and shattered marriage, she’d stayed at the inn. It, too, was run by an O’Brien. And the whole place had been buzzing because the owner’s brother had lost his wife in Iraq and had just moved home with his son. Her heart had ached at the news, not just for the man who’d lost his wife, but for the little boy who would grow up without a mother.

That man was Kevin—it had to be. She felt awful, but had no idea how to apologize, especially since her inadvertent mention of his wife had caused such a strong reaction. Maybe it was better to let it pass.

Even as she was debating with herself over the best tactic, he stood up. “Where’s the nearest plug?”

She gestured toward a table she’d set up temporarily to hold the machine. The foam cups, gourmet coffee beans, and supplies were already sitting on it.

Within minutes, he had the coffee brewing, the rich aroma filling the space.

“Milk?” he asked.

“In the refrigerator in back. I’ll get it.”

When she brought it back, he deftly frothed it to perfection, poured it on top of a cup of fragrant coffee and handed it to her. “There you go,” he said with a grin. “You’re all set.”

“I’m eternally grateful,” she said, meaning it. “The coffee’s fantastic.” She met his gaze and asked impulsively, “What are you doing a week from Saturday? If you’ll man this machine, I’ll not only give your son his pick of any book in the place, but I’ll pay you, too. I can’t afford to hire anyone even part-time just yet, but I can certainly pay you for one day just to keep the customers in coffee.”

His expression closed down as if the offer offended him. “If I’m around, I’ll help out, but I don’t want your money.”

“You work, I pay you,” she said, not sure why she was so insistent that it be a business arrangement. From what she’d gathered, the O’Briens were probably not in need of the kind of paltry money she could afford to pay. Still, paying her way was a matter of pride to her. Accusations from her former in-laws that she’d been a gold digger were still a little too raw. She didn’t want to start her life in Chesapeake Shores feeling indebted to anyone.

“Let’s table that discussion until we see if I’m around.”

She studied him curiously. “Commitment issues?”

“Something like that,” he said evasively. “I’ll be in touch. It was nice to meet you, Shanna.”

“You, too, Kevin.”

But as he walked away, she had the strangest sensation that she still knew next to nothing about him beyond his name and her speculation that he was the man who’d lost his wife in a war halfway across the world. The fact that she found him fascinating was probably a sure sign that she ought to be grateful he was gone. Wounded souls were a bad bet. She’d found that out the hard way. Trying to save another one would be a monumentally stupid idea.

2

It was after six and Shanna was still unpacking boxes and stacking books according to the sections she’d sketched out on a floor plan for the store. She planned to be ready the instant the shelves were put into place. The supplier had promised delivery by nine tomorrow morning.

When her cell phone rang, she grabbed it and answered without checking caller ID, something she hadn’t done since her divorce. Avoiding calls from her ex-husband had become a way of life. This time, thankfully, the impulsive action didn’t cost her.

“How’s the book business?” Laurie asked.

Shanna smiled at the sound of her best friend’s voice. “I’ll let you know when I’ve sold my first book.”

“Well, if it’s too soon to answer that question, then tell me how you are. Still happy about making this move to the middle of nowhere? How can you possibly get through the day when you’re miles and miles from the nearest gourmet coffee shop?”

“Because I’m opening my own,” Shanna replied, sinking down on the floor and leaning against the wall. She felt relaxed for the first time all day. Talking to Laurie, who’d been there through the ordeal of her marriage and her divorce, always grounded her and invariably cheered her up.

“And for the record, I really am happy,” she added emphatically. “This is the best thing I’ve done for myself in a very long time.”

“Met anyone interesting yet?”

She stiffened at the oft-repeated refrain. “What is this obsession you have with my social life?” she asked, instantly annoyed. “I’ve only been divorced for a year and it’s been a rocky one. You should know that better than anyone. I’m hardly ready to rush into anything new.”

“My, my,” Laurie said. “Aren’t you defensive? That must mean you have crossed paths with someone attractive. Tell me.”

Shanna sighed, an unwanted image of the very attractive Kevin O’Brien now locked in her head. “Nothing to tell,” she insisted. A ten, maybe fifteen-minute encounter was not worth mentioning, though she seriously doubted Laurie would agree. Recently engaged, Laurie thought the entire world should be traveling in pairs.

“Well, that’s just a plain shame,” Laurie declared. “I suppose I’ll have to listen to you go on and on about inventory, instead.”

“I’ll restrain myself just this once,” Shanna promised. “You tell me about Drew. How are the wedding plans coming?”

The last she’d heard, the occasion was to be opulent and excessive, every little girl’s dream wedding. Of course, a few weeks ago, it was going to be on a Hawaiian beach at sunset. It all seemed to be evolving at a breakneck pace that suited Laurie, but would have given Shanna hives.

“Actually, that’s one of the reasons I called,” Laurie said. “Didn’t you tell me that the inn where you stayed last year was really wonderful and that they do weddings?”

“The Inn at Eagle Point?” Shanna asked, surprised. “Here in Chesapeake Shores?”

“That’s it,” Laurie said. “I couldn’t recall the name to save my soul. What would you think about us having the wedding there, something small and intimate?”

“I’d love it, of course. The inn is charming, the food’s outstanding and the setting is spectacular, but I thought you wanted something huge, splashy and extravagant.”

“I found out just how much huge, splashy and extravagant cost,” Laurie admitted ruefully. “Drew had a cow. He said if we spent that much on the wedding, we’d be ninety before we’d have enough money to buy a house.”

“A good point,” Shanna agreed. “And fancy and expensive doesn’t guarantee happiness. I’m a living testament to that.”

“So, would it be okay if I came for a quick visit, maybe weekend after next, to look over this inn, maybe talk to the owner about costs and available dates?”

“That’s my store opening,” Shanna reminded her. “I won’t have a spare second.”

“Two birds with one stone,” Laurie said happily. “And great planning on my part, if I do say so myself. I can help out at the opening. I’ll be your go-to girl for any last-minute details. You can send me out for ice or make me dust the shelves. You know how you love bossing me around. You’ll be in heaven.”

“Are you sure this is about checking out the inn?” Shanna asked. “Or are you just anxious to get a look at this new life of mine, so you can give it your seal of approval? I know you weren’t overjoyed that I made this leap without consulting you.”

“Well, you have to admit, you made the decision practically overnight. That’s not like you. You’re a lot of things, Shanna, but impulsive isn’t one of them. I’m worried about you.”

“I’d been thinking about this for an entire year,” Shanna reminded her. “It was hardly impulsive. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I suppose,” Laurie conceded. “But I will feel better if I see for myself if this suits you. So, how about it? Can I come to help you celebrate your grand opening?”

Though she’d barely have time to breathe that weekend, Shanna found it impossible to resist the offer of help or a chance to show off Chesapeake Shores to her friend. She realized she did want Laurie’s blessing. Despite an occasional flighty moment or two when it came to her wedding, Laurie was as levelheaded as anyone she’d ever known.

“Absolutely. I want you here. It wouldn’t be the same without you,” Shanna told her, even as an image of Kevin O’Brien and his promise to help out if he was around came and went. She could hardly count on him, now, could she? Of course, if he did turn up, Laurie would spot Shanna’s interest in two seconds flat and do everything in her power to encourage it. Worse, subtlety wasn’t her strong suit. Oh well, she’d just have to risk it. “Please come, Laurie.”

“I can’t wait,” Laurie enthused.

Just then the bell, left behind by the previous tenant, rang as the shop door opened. A pretty woman with what she’d come to realize were the brilliant azure eyes of the O’Briens stuck her head in. Shanna waved at her to enter.

“Laurie, I’ve got to run. Someone just dropped in. Make your plans and let me know when you’re coming, okay?”

“Will do. Love you, girl. See you soon.”

Shanna clicked off the phone, then turned to the woman who was wandering through the shop unabashedly checking things out. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“I’m Bree O’Brien from next door,” she announced, turning back to Shanna. “Bree Collins, actually.” She gave a rueful shake of her head. “I can’t get used to the fact that I’m married. I’m afraid I’m giving Jake—he’s my husband—some kind of a complex about never remembering to use his name. Anyway, I just wanted to welcome you to Main Street.” Her grin spread. “And to get a look around, so I’ll have something to report to all the people who’re asking questions. A new business is big news around here. I’m getting at least a half-dozen extra customers every day just from the curiosity factor.”

Shanna instinctively liked Bree’s candor. “Well, you can report that it will be a books and games store with a tiny café, no threat to Sally’s. Be sure she knows that. Just coffee and tea and maybe a few pastries if I can find a bakery to supply them.”

“Sounds fabulous. Just what we’ve needed in town, a place to browse for books and kick back over a cup of coffee.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “You know, you might check with my sister Jess at the inn. She has a fabulous baker on staff. Maybe you can work something out. Just remember that Sally has the croissant concession locked in. We try not to trample on each other’s business toes.”

“Absolutely. Got it,” Shanna said. “You’re welcome to keep looking around, if you can maneuver around the stacks of books. Shelves are coming in the morning, so hopefully the floor will be clear by this time tomorrow and this place will be starting to look the way I’ve envisioned it.”

Bree somehow found her way straight to the gardening and flower-arranging books. She picked them up, all but cooing her enthusiasm over each one. “Mind if I put a stack aside for myself?” she asked. “There are three here I absolutely have to have.”

“By all means. I’ll put them in back with your name on them.” She decided now might be a good time to get some of her questions about Kevin answered. “By the way, your brother Kevin was here earlier. Did he find you?”

Bree looked startled. “Kevin was here?”

Shanna nodded.

“Was he civil?” she asked worriedly.

“Of course. Why?”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. It makes him sound, I don’t know, unpredictable or something. It’s just that he’s been going through a tough time. He pretty much keeps to himself these days.”

“Why?” Shanna asked, then could have kicked herself. “Sorry. I’m being nosy.”

“It’s okay. Most people around here know, and they’re pretty understanding about his need for privacy and his moods. His wife died a while back, and I guess you could say that he’s lost his way.”

“That explains it,” Shanna said. “I inadvertently mentioned his wife, and he shut down. I had a feeling something awful had happened.”

“She died in Iraq. One of those improvised explosive incidents. It just about killed him. If it weren’t for his little boy …” Bree shrugged. “I’m not sure what would have happened, if he didn’t have Davy in his life. He’s only two, so he still needs a lot of attention. At least Kevin knows he can’t go completely underground and brood.”

With her guesswork confirmed, Shanna felt another burst of sympathy. Here were two people who needed mothering, one of them practically a baby, the other a grown man who’d been through his own personal hell. The situation was right up her alley. Once again, she warned herself to steer clear.

But when she thought of Kevin’s sad eyes and what a difference it had made the few times he’d smiled, she knew in her gut she wasn’t going to be able to resist, not if he gave her half a chance. He might be lost and needy, but she had a void inside that she’d been trying to fill for years. It had made her love well, but not wisely. Not wisely at all.

Kevin sat in an Adirondack chair in the yard, his bare feet propped on a stool, a beer in his hand as he watched Davy play with his trucks. Thank heaven he was the kind of kid who, even at two, could entertain himself, at least for short stretches of time. They were waiting for dusk and the arrival of the fireflies, which Davy found endlessly fascinating. Then they’d go inside, Davy would get a quick bath and a story before bed, and finally, Kevin would have the rest of the night to himself.

As Charles Dickens had once said about something else entirely in the opening to A Tale of Two Cities, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Those few hours before sleep claimed him were too often filled with memories, good ones, yes, but painful because of it.

“Hey, Davy, look what I caught,” Bree called out from somewhere behind him.

Davy looked up from his trucks, squealed with glee and took off toward his aunt, who had two fireflies trapped in a jar with holes punched in the lid. If Kevin wasn’t mistaken, that was probably the very same Mason jar they’d used as kids to gather lightning bugs on evenings just like this one—humid and thick with the promise of a storm in the air. Whitecaps were already stirring on the bay and the leaves on some of the huge old trees were turned inside out in the stiffening breeze.

With Davy’s hand tucked in hers, Bree came over to join him, plopping down on the grass and setting the jar where Davy could watch it, his brow furrowed now in concentration.

“I can see lightning in the distance,” she commented, her gaze directed toward the bay. “Heat lightning, most likely.”

“Maybe,” Kevin said.

“Then, again, it could storm in an hour or two,” she said, clearly making small talk. “I hope so. We could use a good rain.”

Kevin didn’t respond, just waited, wary. Bree rarely dropped by for no good reason now that she was married. She had better things to do with her evenings than to sit with him and chat about the weather. Usually if he kept quiet, she’d eventually get to the point.

Tonight, however, the tactic didn’t seem to be working. Bree just sat there, gazing out at the water, seemingly content. He knew better. Like him, she was biding her time.

“Why aren’t you home with Jake?” he asked eventually, hoping to forestall whatever had brought her over here by guiding her toward what was usually her favorite topic, her new husband.

“Mrs. Finch had a lilac emergency,” she said with a smile.

Mrs. Finch’s obsession with her lilacs was legendary. She nearly drove Jake crazy with her insistence on overseeing the annual mulching and trimming he did for her, but she was one of his landscaping business’s best customers, so when she called, he went. Kevin grinned. “Better him than me.”

Bree laughed. “That’s right. I’d forgotten you used to do lawn work for her when you were a kid.”

“I only helped Jake, so he’d finish sooner and we could go out chasing girls,” he corrected.

“You and my husband chased girls together?” she asked with a narrowed gaze. “I don’t remember that.”

“Oops!” Kevin replied, trying to inject a note of contrition into his voice. He couldn’t quite manage it. If he’d just thrown Jake to the wolves, so be it. Maybe it would get Bree’s focus off him.

Apparently, though, she was more than capable of multitasking, because she turned her attention right back to him.

“I met Shanna today,” she said, all innocence. “She said you’d been looking for me.”

“I was.”

“Any particular reason?”

“I mentioned I might go into town and Gram immediately claimed she wanted a few flowers to fill in an arrangement.” Gram’s request had been a blatant lie, and they’d both known it.

“But you never picked up any flowers,” Bree said, looking confused.

“Because her garden’s in full bloom,” he said. “I know a manipulation when it slaps me in the face. She just wanted to be sure I kept my word and got out of the house. It’s her latest mission in life.”

Bree grinned. “She’s not half as sneaky as she likes to think she is.”

“Never was,” he said, waiting for another shoe to drop.

“I hear you hung out for a while at the bookstore,” she finally said, her tone oh-so-casual.

He shrugged. “I was waiting for you. Shanna was having trouble with her cappuccino machine, so I offered to set it up for her. It was like the one I used to have at home. No big deal, certainly nothing to bring you running over here with all these questions.”

Her brow lifted. “She didn’t mention that you’d helped her out.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t a big deal. Is there some point you’re trying to get to?”

“Not really,” she said, sitting back in companionable silence just long enough to lull him into a false sense of complacency before asking, “What did you think of her?”

“Who? Shanna?”

She rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that who we’ve been talking about?”

He regarded her evenly. “A second ago we were talking about Gram.”

“Oh, please. I know what you think about our grandmother. Yes, Shanna, dolt. She’s attractive.”

“I didn’t notice.” It was a lie. He’d noticed that her cheeks flushed easily, that her hair had a tendency to curl haphazardly, that she barely came up to his chin. But he’d also seen something else: trouble. She was vulnerable and needy, and not because she couldn’t get her cappuccino machine working, either. It was something else, something he’d read in the depths of her eyes. He couldn’t cope with needy. He could barely cope with his own life these days.

“Well, she is attractive,” Bree said. “Single, too. At least she wasn’t wearing any kind of a ring, and she never mentioned anything about a husband.”

“Do most people you know spill their entire life story the second you meet them?”

“Of course not. I’m just passing along what I observed.”

Kevin scowled at his sister. “I hope you’re not planning to indulge in some unsolicited matchmaking,” he said in a tone he hoped would quell any ideas she had along that line.

“No one in this family approves of meddling,” she said piously.

“That doesn’t seem to stop ‘em from engaging in it,” he retorted sourly. “Before you go getting any ideas, keep in mind that I’m so far from wanting a woman in my life, I might as well be living in a monastery.”

“Which is a waste, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask, did I?”

“Come on, Kevin,” she coaxed. “Live a little. You don’t have to marry the woman. You don’t even have to date her. Just have coffee with her, help her out getting the store organized, something that will bring a little human contact back into your life.”

“With you, Jess, Abby, Gram and Dad on my case, I have about as much human contact these days as I can handle,” he grumbled.

“We don’t count. You need to interact with the outside world.”

“Leave it alone, Bree. Leave me alone.”

He stood up, then reached down to scoop Davy off his feet. “Bath time, kiddo.”

“No! More flies,” Davy protested, clinging tightly to his jar with both hands.

“Two’s enough,” Kevin told him. “That’s quite a catch. Thank your Aunt Bree and tell her good night.”

Davy dutifully smiled at his aunt. “Bye, Bwee.”

“Good night, lovebug.” She grinned at Kevin. “Night, pain.”

He laughed. “Ditto.”

She fell into step beside him as he crossed the lawn. “Shanna says her shelves are being delivered first thing in the morning,” she said casually.

“So?”

She stood tall and gave him a peck on his cheek. “Just thought you might want to know.”

He let that pass. And tomorrow, if he had a grain of sense in his head, he’d find some excuse to be anywhere other than Main Street. Not only did he not want to get sucked into Shanna’s life, but he also didn’t want to give his sister even an iota of encouragement for this undisguised matchmaking scheme of hers.

Mick was sick of seeing his son hanging around the house. For months now he’d cut Kevin some slack. He’d figured it took time to recover from losing his wife. Maybe just as much to recover from being in a war zone, despite Kevin’s claim that he’d put all that behind him when he’d been discharged. Kevin had had enough nightmares under this very roof to make a liar out of himself, though Mick was sure Kevin thought no one knew about those.

Mick had listened to everyone else’s opinion that Kevin needed time, but to his way of thinking, time was up. A thirty-year-old man needed a focus in his life, a reason to get up in the morning, something beyond a demanding two-year-old. Mick intended to see that Kevin got busy finding that new direction for himself.

He found Kevin on the beach, staring out to sea while Davy built a lopsided sand castle beside him. The structure of it offended Mick’s architectural eye, but he shook off the desire to sit down and teach his grandson how to build something that would withstand the first lap of a wave. This walk down to the beach wasn’t about giving his grandson an engineering lesson he wasn’t ready for.

“Grampa,” Davy said, looking up at him with glee. “Play with me, okay?”

“Maybe later, sport,” Mick told him. He turned to Kevin. “You have plans for the day?”

Kevin shook his head.

“Good. Then you can come with me.”

“Where?” Kevin asked suspiciously.

“I’m managing one of the Habitat for Humanity sites. I could use some help.”

Kevin pulled his sunglasses down on his nose and eyed Mick skeptically. “Really? You’re volunteering?”

“Yes, I’m volunteering,” Mick said irritably. “It was your grandmother’s idea, and it was a good one.”

“And your company?”

“Can pretty much run itself these days,” Mick said. At first that discovery hadn’t pleased him. He’d always thought of himself as indispensable, but now he’d recognized the advantages of having more free time. He was spending quite a lot of it in New York with his ex-wife. The rest he was devoting to building these houses for Habitat for Humanity. They’d been thrilled to have someone with his level of expertise on a site. With his contractor skills, he could juggle several locations at once and keep construction flowing on all of them. And he had contacts in the trades all over Maryland and wasn’t above twisting anyone’s arm to get a few free hours of help with the skilled carpentry, electrical and plumbing work.

“Okay, let’s say I can swallow this new, compassionate, giving role of yours,” Kevin said, his tone wry. “Where exactly do you see me fitting in? You pretty much banished me from every job site you were ever on. As you were so fond of pointing out, I have absolutely no construction skills. I believe you mentioned a time or two that I was a disgrace.” He grinned. “You weren’t wrong.”

To Mick’s dismay, Kevin was right about that. It had been a sad day when he’d realized that neither of his sons knew one end of a hammer from the other and, worse, didn’t care. They couldn’t even paint a room without making a mess of it.

Still, he said optimistically, “You’re not too old to learn. A lot of volunteers aren’t experienced.”

“But won’t it be embarrassing when the son of the great architect Mick O’Brien puts up a wall that falls right back down?”

Mick chuckled despite himself. “You have a point.” He studied his son with a worried frown. “So, what are you going to do with yourself?”

“Today? I thought I’d hang out here for a while with Davy, then maybe run some errands.”

Mick barely managed to keep his irritation out of his voice. “You know I’m not just asking about today. What’s your long-term plan, Kevin?”

“No idea,” he said succinctly and without remorse.

“There are paramedic openings here in town,” Mick said.

“So I’m told,” Kevin admitted. “I’m not interested.”

“Then what does interest you?” Mick asked impatiently, then could have bitten his tongue. He’d vowed to build a bridge with his son, not destroy the rare bit of peace between them.

At his raised voice, Davy looked up, his chin wobbling precariously, his eyes filling with tears. The look tore at Mick’s heart. He bent down and scooped up his grandson.

“Hey, big fella, what about you? You want to come with Grampa today?”

Kevin frowned at that. “You can’t have a two-year-old running around a construction site,” he objected.

“I’m only going by for an hour or two to check a few things. I have a hard hat somewhere around here that’s just his size. I won’t let him out of my sight. You could ride along with us, if you’re worried about him.”

“Nice try, Dad, but contrary to whatever impression I gave you earlier, I actually do have things to do.”

“Such as?” Mick pushed.

The simple question seemed to throw Kevin. Clearly he needed time to invent an excuse.

“I’m going into town,” he said eventually. “For?”

“What difference does it make why I’m going? Isn’t the goal to get poor, depressed Kevin out of the house?” He stood up and stalked off.

Mick stood, staring after him, and sighed.

“Daddy go bye-bye,” Davy said sadly.

Mick gave his grandson a hug. “That’s okay, pal. We’re going bye-bye, too, and something tells me we’re going to have a lot more fun.”

And, truth be told, knowing that ripped him apart inside.