#1 New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods sweeps readers away with the story of a beloved member of the O’Brien family as she claims the life she’s always dreamed of

Spirited, spontaneous Carrie Winters has grown up under the watchful eyes of not only her grandfather Mick O’Brien, but the entire town of Chesapeake Shores.

Now that she’s home from Europe, a glamorous fashion career behind her and her heart broken, there seem to be far too many people watching to see if she’ll live up to the expectations her family has for her.

As if that weren’t enough pressure, Carrie finds herself drawn to sexy, grief-stricken Sam Winslow, who is yearning for someone to help him raise the nephew who’s unexpectedly come into his life after a tragedy.

With her own life in turmoil, is Carrie really ready to take on a new career and a new man? Or is Sam exactly what she needs to create the strong, loving family she’s always wanted?

Praise for #1 New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods

“Sherryl Woods writes emotionally satisfying novels about family, friendship and home. Truly feel-great reads!”

—#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber

“Launching the Chesapeake Shores series, Woods creates an engrossing…family drama.”

—Publishers Weekly on The Inn at Eagle Point

“Sparks fly in a lively tale that is overflowing with family conflict and warmth and the possibility of rekindled love.”

—Library Journal on Flowers on Main

“Warm, complex, and satisfying.”

—Library Journal on Harbor Lights

“Sure to satisfy.”

—Publishers Weekly on A Chesapeake Shores Christmas

“Woods’s amazing grasp of human nature and the emotions that lie deep within us make this story universal…this latest novel in the Chesapeake Shores series does not disappoint.”

—RT Book Reviews on Driftwood Cottage

“Once again, Woods, with such authenticity, weaves a tale of true love and the challenges that can knock up against that love.”

—RT Book Reviews on Beach Lane

“Engaging and satisfying… A sweet, affecting holiday-themed read.”

—Kirkus Reviews on A Seaside Christmas

Also by #1 New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods

Chesapeake Shores

Dogwood Hill

The Christmas Bouquet

A Seaside Christmas

The Summer Garden

An O’Brien Family Christmas

Beach Lane

Moonlight Cove

Driftwood Cottage

A Chesapeake Shores Christmas

Harbor Lights

Flowers on Main

The Inn at Eagle Point

The Sweet Magnolias

Swan Point

Where Azaleas Bloom

Catching Fireflies

Midnight Promises

Honeysuckle Summer

Sweet Tea at Sunrise

Home in Carolina

Welcome to Serenity

Feels Like Family

A Slice of Heaven

Stealing Home

The Devaney Brothers

The Devaney Brothers: Daniel

The Devaney Brothers:

Michael and Patrick

The Devaney Brothers:

Ryan and Sean

Ocean Breeze

Sea Glass Island

Wind Chime Point

Sand Castle Bay

Rose Cottage Sisters

Return to Rose Cottage

Home at Rose Cottage

Trinity Harbor

Along Came Trouble

Ask Anyone

About That Man

For a complete list of all titles by Sherryl Woods,

visit www.sherrylwoods.com.

Look for #1 New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods’s

The Christmas Bouquet

available soon in paperback from MIRA Books

Willow Brook Road

Sherryl Woods

www.mirabooks.co.uk

Dear Friends,

I usually use this space to give you a little background on the story you’re about to read. This time I hope you’ll indulge me as I thank some folks who’ve made it possible for me to write the many, many books you’ve read through the years.

Almost from the very beginning I have worked with the very savvy Denise Marcil, whose dedication as my agent has made her an incredible business partner. She had faith when mine flagged and a calming influence when I was on the edge of some writing cliff. No one could have worked harder or made this long career as much fun.

I’ve been blessed with so many fabulous editors through the years as well, women who’ve gently nudged me to create better and better stories. Lucia Macro started my career with Silhouette way back in the ’80s. Joan Golan guided me through literally dozens of books. Now I have the absolute pleasure of working with Margaret O’Neill Marbury for the second time. I’m a better writer because of them and too many others to name (there have been 140-plus books, after all).

Once a book is polished to perfection—or as near to that as we ever get—it’s in the hands of the publisher and sales team. I’ve worked with several, but no sales force could be more determined or enthusiastic than the men and women at Mira. Getting these books where you can find them is a tough job, and they’re the very best at it. They have my undying gratitude!

There are dozens of others I’d like to thank, including family and friends, but I’ll use this last little bit of space to thank you! Your emails and letters mean the world to me. And I’ve always tried to keep you in mind with every page I write. Bless you for the support and love you’ve shown.

All best as always,

Sherryl

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

Booklist

Title Page

Dear Reader

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

1

The original Mick O’Brien–designed cottage on Willow Brook Road had been built with weathered gray shingles, white trim and a tiny back porch barely big enough for two rockers side by side. They faced Willow Brook, which fed into the Chesapeake Bay. The backyard sloped gently to the brook, with the graceful branches of a trademark weeping willow touching the lawn at the water’s edge. The peaceful setting was just right for quiet conversation or relaxing with a good book.

In front the cottage featured a small yard with an actual white picket fence and a climbing yellow rosebush that tumbled over it with a profusion of fragrant blooms. Bright red and hot-pink geraniums filled pots on the stoop in a vibrant display of clashing colors. The property oozed picturesque charm.

With three cozy bedrooms and a fireplace in the living room and a surprisingly large eat-in kitchen, it was the perfect Chesapeake Shores vacation getaway or a starter home for a small family, but Carrie Winters had been living there alone and at loose ends for almost six months now. The only personal touch she’d added beyond the mismatched furniture she’d acquired from various family attics was the portrait of the whole O’Brien family taken at the Christmas wedding of her twin, Caitlyn.

These days, sitting in one of those rockers for more than a minute or two made her antsy. After two years in a pressure-cooker public relations job at which she’d excelled, being idle was a new experience, and one she didn’t particularly like. She was too distracted for reading anything deeper than the local weekly newspaper. And though she loved to cook, making fancy meals for one person just left her feeling lonely.

Worst of all, she seemed incapable of motivating herself to get out of this funk she’d been in ever since coming home. Chesapeake Shores might be where she wanted—or even needed—to be as she tried to piece her life back together and reevaluate her priorities, but it had created its own sort of pressure.

While the rest of the O’Brien clan was unmistakably worried about her, her grandfather Mick was bordering on frantic. O’Briens did not waste time or wallow in self-pity, which was exactly what Carrie had been doing ever since the breakup of her last relationship. Timed to coincide with the crash-and-burn demolition of her career in the fashion industry, the combination had sent her fleeing from Paris and straight back to her loving family.

Carrie sighed and took a first sip of the one glass of wine she allowed herself at the end of the day. Wallowing was one thing. Getting tipsy all alone was something else entirely. Even she was wise enough to see that.

An image of Marc Reynolds, the fashion-world icon she’d thought she loved, crept into her head, as it did about a hundred times a day. That was down from about a million when she’d first flown home from Europe after the breakup. If it could even be called that, she thought wryly. Truthfully, she’d finally realized that Marc thought of her more as a convenient bed partner and workhorse whose public relations efforts for his fashion empire had helped to put it on the fast track to international acclaim. Unbeknownst to her, his heart apparently belonged to a she-devil, self-absorbed model who treated him like dirt. Carrie could relate, since Marc had pretty much done the same to her. She was still struggling to understand how her judgment could possibly have been so clouded that she hadn’t seen that sooner. Surely the signs had been there. Had she been so besotted she’d missed them? If so, how could she possibly trust her instincts about a man again?

Not that she was going to let that be an issue anytime soon. She was swearing off the male of the species until she figured out who she was and what she truly wanted. At the rate she was progressing on that front, it could take years.

Enough! she told herself firmly, carrying her almost-full glass inside and stepping over a scattering of toys as she went. She smiled as she picked up a floppy-eared bunny and set it gently in a chair. A stack of children’s picture books sat on a nearby table.

Taking care of her twin sister’s little boy, Jackson McIlroy, was about the only thing that gave her a sense of fulfillment these days. With Caitlyn serving a medical internship at Johns Hopkins, and Caitlyn’s husband, Noah, running an increasingly busy family medicine practice here in town, Carrie had volunteered for day-care duty whenever they needed her. More and more often they’d come to rely on her, which suited her just fine, but seemed to be making everyone else in her driven family a little crazy. Babysitting wasn’t considered a suitable career goal for the granddaughter of the town’s founder.

She picked up a few more toys, put them in the brightly colored toy box she’d painted herself one particularly dreary winter day, then grabbed her purse and walked into town. Ten minutes later she was at O’Brien’s, the Irish pub her second cousin Luke had opened a few years back. She knew she’d find a good meal there, even if it came with a serving of family meddling from whichever O’Brien happened to be around.

When she walked in the door, she was startled to find it mostly empty.

“Hey, Carrie,” Luke said, automatically pouring a glass of white wine for her.

“Where is everybody?” she asked, as she settled on a stool in front of the magnificent old bar that Luke had found in Ireland and shipped home to be the centerpiece of his pub.

“It’s barely five o’clock,” he pointed out. “We’ll be filling up soon.”

Carrie glanced at her watch and groaned. Today—a day without the baby to watch—had been endless. Apparently it wasn’t close to being over, either.

“Can I ask you a question?” she said, as Luke polished glassware and readied the bar for this evening’s business.

He studied her face for a moment, then came around the bar and sat down beside her, giving her his full attention. “What’s on your mind?”

“You were the youngest in my mom’s generation, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” he confirmed.

“Did you feel pressured to accomplish something?”

He laughed. “Are you kidding me?”

“Not even a little bit,” she said seriously.

“You know all this, but let me remind you. By the time I finished college, your mom was a financial success story on Wall Street. Kevin had served in the military, then jumped onto the bandwagon to preserve the bay with Uncle Thomas. Connor was a hotshot divorce lawyer in Baltimore. Bree had opened a successful flower shop, then a local theater, where she’s now writing and directing to critical acclaim. And Jess was barely into her twenties and already turning the Inn at Eagle Point into a successful regional destination.”

He allowed that to sink in, then added, “That’s what I was up against. On top of that, my brother started working with Uncle Mick as an architect straight out of college, and my sister is all but running the real estate business here in town with my dad. O’Briens seemed to know what they wanted in the womb, all of them except me.”

“And me,” Carrie lamented. “Funny how you were the youngest and felt lost. Cait and I are the oldest in our generation. She recognized her destiny even before she got out of high school. She’s determined to be a doctor and save the world. Not even marriage and a baby have derailed her plans.”

Luke grinned. “And your goals aren’t that lofty?”

“I’m not sure I even have goals,” she admitted. “I thought I did. I enjoyed PR work well enough. I was good at it, too. And I liked being in the fashion industry, but that was more about being with Marc than the work. It didn’t break my heart when another job in fashion didn’t materialize right away. Working with him is what I miss most, so that must be telling me something.”

Luke studied her with a commiserating look. “Have you figured out the message?”

She shrugged. “Nope. All I know is that I hate being at loose ends.”

“What about that trip you took with Uncle Mick to Africa? Any inspiration there?”

Her grandparents had gone to Africa to check out several villages in dire need of medical help, especially since the outbreak of Ebola had had such a devastating impact. Mick had been drafted by Cait and a doctor in Baltimore into designing small medical facilities for the villages to provide the care they so desperately needed. It had been an eye-opening trip with an idealistic mission she admired.

“Sure. It made me realize how lucky we’ve all been. I’ve donated a ton of money from my trust fund to the cause because I’ve seen firsthand how worthwhile it is, but I don’t want to return, not the way Cait’s chomping at the bit to go. She was so envious that I got to go with Grandpa Mick and Grandma Megan. Me?” She shook her head. “I could hardly wait to get back home.”

“The States?”

“Not just the States, but here, back in Chesapeake Shores. I thought once I got here everything would magically become clear to me.”

Luke gave her a long, considering look. “Have you thought about staying here, Carrie? Really thought about it? I always knew this town was right for me. It was just about the only thing I did know, but you’ve lived in a lot of exciting cities—New York, Milan, Paris. Are you absolutely certain Chesapeake Shores is big enough for you?”

She frowned at the question, which seemed to suggest a shallowness she didn’t appreciate. She didn’t need glitz and glamour. She really didn’t. She’d had a taste of it. That had been enough.

“What do you mean?” she challenged. “This is home for me, Luke, the same as it is for you.”

“If you say so,” he said, his doubts still evident.

“I do say so.”

“You were born in New York,” he reminded her. “You went to college there, too, and traveled all over the world when you were working in fashion. I’ve only been to Ireland, where things were pretty laid-back, especially in the smaller villages, but I imagine the lifestyle here is very different from the glamorous places you’ve seen in France and Italy. It’s definitely a world away from the hustle and bustle of New York.”

Though her instinct was to counter Luke’s obvious skepticism with complete certainty, she took a sip of her wine and actually gave the question some thought.

“It is different, but in a good way,” she replied slowly, trying to put her gut feelings into words. “The pace is slower. The values are different. Family really counts for something. Mom saw that. She left New York and brought me and Caitlyn back here.”

“Because she was in love with Trace,” Luke said.

Carrie sighed. “Yes, Trace did play a big part in her decision, but she’s been happy being home. She’d tell you that. She’s figured out how to balance the career she loves and the family she loves even more.”

“Balance is important,” Luke agreed, then gave her another of his annoying long looks. “What do you envision doing with your life here? I know the ambition gene can’t possibly have skipped over you completely. All O’Briens have it.”

“Not me,” she admitted as if it were a crime. Luke was right about one thing—O’Briens were expected to be excellent multitaskers, and, despite her last name being Winters, she was an O’Brien through and through. Luke had brought the conversation full circle, right back to those goals that seemed to be eluding her. She’d been so blasted lucky her entire life. What right did she have to complain about an unexpected bump in the road?

“All I ever really wanted was to be a wife and mom,” she told her cousin. She made the admission in a hushed voice, as if it were some sort of crime to want so little for herself.

When Luke didn’t react as if she were crazy, she continued, “Gram was my role model. Nell made a real home for Mom and her siblings after Grandpa Mick and Grandma Megan split up. I always saw myself doing that same thing—cooking, baking, nurturing my kids—right here, surrounded by family. All through college I kept expecting to meet someone and fall in love. I practically made a career out of dating. I thought for sure I’d get a marriage license fifteen minutes after I picked up my diploma.”

She sighed again. “That was the plan, but it never happened. Then I met Marc and thought he was the one. Of course, he was the last man on earth who’d ever be happy in a small town, so I have no idea how I expected him to fit into my dream.”

“Ever heard of compromise?” Luke asked with a smile.

“From Marc? Not likely.”

“How about you?”

“For the right man, sure,” she said glibly, then wondered. “Okay, you’re right. I can’t settle. It would never work. I want what Mom and Trace have, what Bree has with Jake and Grandpa Mick has found with Grandma Megan now that they’re back together. I want the whole happily-ever-after thing.”

“So you can’t settle and you claim you don’t care about a career,” Luke summed up. “You have yourself a real dilemma.”

“Isn’t that what I’ve been trying to tell you?” she said in frustration.

“Maybe you need to focus, pick the area of your life that matters the most to you, the one over which you have some control.”

She smiled at that. O’Briens did love to control things. Her grandfather was a master at that and he’d instilled that stubborn, we’re-capable-of-anything streak in all of them.

“We’ve already concluded that I can’t control when or if the right man might come along, and I have no career goals, at least not the kind I’m passionate about,” she reminded him yet again.

“I think you’re making this too complicated,” Luke suggested. “Stop fretting about a career, if that’s not what you care about. Put it on the back burner. Get out there and start dating. There are single men in here every night of the week. I’ll fix you up. When was the last time you went on a date? The path to marriage generally starts with a first date.”

“So I’ve heard,” she said, though random dating didn’t appeal to her. She’d done that all through college to no avail. Besides, she’d sworn off men until she figured out how she’d been so wrong about Marc, how she’d misjudged his values and his feelings.

But Luke was right about one thing. She did need some sort of social life before she went completely stir-crazy. “How about this? I don’t want to be fixed up, but the next time I’m in here, if there’s a nice guy around, introduce us. Women and men can be friends, right? That’s not a bad starting point.”

“I have my doubts about men and women being pals, but it’s definitely a start,” Luke said. “I predict you’ll be married in no time, with a half dozen kids underfoot.”

As alluring as that image was, Carrie could see the downside. “Can you picture what Grandpa Mick will have to say about that? He loves all his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, but he expects more from us.”

“Forget your grandfather. This is about what you want. You know Nell will be on your side.”

Carrie smiled. “Sure she will, but she’ll be standing there all alone. Grandpa Mick will be horrified. So will just about everyone else. Even Mom and Trace will think I’m wasting my potential.”

“This is about you, though,” Luke argued. “And about what will make you happy. When it comes down to it, I think that’s what they truly want for all of us. As appalled as my dad was by the idea of this pub, he got on board when he saw how much it meant to me. Treat the whole marriage thing as if it were a job hunt. Interview applicants on a daily basis.”

Carrie gave him a chiding look. “You say that as if it’s perfectly simple to pluck the perfect man out of thin air or to identify him by getting him to answer a list of questions. Trust me, it’s not. Besides, where’s the magic in that?”

Her cousin chuckled. “Ah, so you want the magic, too?”

“Of course. And until I find it, I can’t very well sit around and do nothing. I still need a goal. Being idle isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’m not suited for that, either.”

Luke’s expression turned thoughtful. While he pondered whatever he was pondering, Carrie sipped her wine.

“You’re babysitting for half the kids in the family, aren’t you?” he said eventually.

“Yes, but what’s your point? That’s not exactly a job.”

He gave her a long look. “Make it one.”

She frowned at the seemingly offhand suggestion, though it was evident Luke was warming to the idea. “What do you mean?” she pressed.

“You love kids. You don’t have any of your own on the immediate horizon.” He stared at her as if willing her to reach the same conclusion he had. When she remained silent, he added with a touch of impatience, “Consider opening a day care.”

Carrie immediately waved off the idea. “Come on, Luke. I can’t charge family for keeping an eye on their kids.”

“Why not? If you weren’t around, they’d be paying somebody else. I certainly charge them for their pints of ale when they come in here.”

“Not the same thing,” she insisted. “This is a business. We all understand that.”

He laughed. “And the day care could be your business,” he said. “Just something to think about. The town could use one. Moira was saying that to me not twenty-four hours ago. She said if we’re ever going to have kids, given our busy schedules and her traveling with her photography exhibits, we’ll need someone we trust to care for them. She flatly refuses to put a playpen in the corner and see our child raised in a bar.”

Carrie could just imagine Moira making that point very clear. From her very first introduction to the O’Briens in her native Ireland, Moira had never hesitated to express an opinion. It had earned her the nickname of Maddening Moira, until Luke had pleaded with all of them to drop it.

Luke gave her a grin. “Maybe when you’re totally focused on starting a business for yourself, the right man will suddenly appear. By then you may be so busy, you won’t even have time for him.”

“The way you were when Moira came along?” she said, recalling how he’d expected Moira to sit by patiently while he got the pub up and running. She’d taken exception to that.

“Exactly,” he admitted with a grimace. “Moira tried to get some sense through my hard head, but it was Nell who finally set me straight about waiting.”

“How? I never heard the story.”

“After Gram fell ill during the trip she and Dillon took to New York, she called Moira and me into her room at the hospital and told us to stop wasting time. She reminded us that we should never put off the things in life that really matter, that there’s never a perfect time for falling in love. I swear, even lying there in that hospital bed looking so blasted tiny and frail, she was a force to be reckoned with.”

“She still is,” Carrie said, then admitted, “It scares me to think what will happen when we lose her. She’s the bedrock of this family.”

“And to hear her tell it, she’s not going anywhere till she’s satisfied we’re all settled and content,” Luke replied. “With a whole slew of great-grandchildren around now, I think she’s planning on being with us for a while.”

“I hope so,” Carrie said softly.

Luke patted her shoulder as he stood up. “I need to get back to work. Just think about what I said. Maybe day care is the right fit for you, maybe not, but you won’t know until you’ve explored the possibility, the same as I figured out a pub was the right fit for me the first time I walked into one in Ireland and realized it could be the heart of a community. I found my true calling on that trip.”

“And Moira,” she said, smiling.

“And Moira,” he agreed.

After he’d gone into the kitchen to check in with his chef, Carrie sighed. Was there any merit to Luke’s idea? Or would it feel as if she was giving up on her own dream of having a family by surrounding herself with other people’s children? She was a great babysitter, a terrific aunt, but there was a whole lot more to running a day care, including more regulations than she’d ever had to deal with. Of course, she had taken a couple of early childhood development and child psychology classes in school. She’d been fascinated by the topics and she’d aced them. She might even have pursued more classes back then, if she hadn’t gotten a PR internship and gravitated in that direction.

She thought of all the O’Brien kids who were underfoot on a regular basis and smiled. They were the best part of her life, no question about that. Could she turn that into a career?

Just as Luke had suggested, it was something worth considering. She certainly didn’t have an alternative in mind and she needed to do something before her family lost patience and she lost her mind wrestling with all this indecisiveness.

* * *

Sam glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that his nephew had finally fallen asleep. He breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure which was worse, the long silences when Bobby said nothing at all or the string of unanswerable questions that had been thrown at Sam ever since his sister and brother-in-law had been killed in an accident two weeks earlier. The discovery that Bobby was being placed in his care had shocked him into silence, for sure. It was little wonder it had left the six-year-old thoroughly confused.

And now, here they were driving into Chesapeake Shores, a town where Sam hadn’t even had time to get himself settled before learning about the tragedy that had taken Bobby’s parents. He’d left his new job as a grieving brother, his only thoughts focused on getting through the funeral. Now he was returning as a single parent with so many thoughts and fears swirling in his head, he had no idea which needed to be tackled first. He’d put his own grief on the back burner so he could stay focused on the scared little boy suddenly in his care.

“Dinner,” he muttered under his breath. Whenever Bobby awakened, he’d be starving. The one thing Sam did know was that he couldn’t go on feeding the boy nothing but fast food, the only thing that seemed to tempt Bobby to eat. Fortunately fast food was in short supply in Chesapeake Shores, which didn’t have a chain restaurant in town. The closest McDonald’s or Burger King was miles away.

Instead of heading straight to the Inn at Eagle Point, where he’d been staying since his arrival in town, Sam turned onto Shore Road and found a parking spot across from several local restaurants, including O’Brien’s, a pub that specialized in traditional Irish comfort food. Wasn’t that exactly what he and Bobby both needed? Something comforting and filling?

Exiting the car, he hesitated. Did he have to wake Bobby just so he could run in, order some food and run back across the street? It was early enough that the street was mostly deserted. The shops had closed, so few tourists were lingering along the waterfront, and it was too early for most people to be heading out for dinner. And it was, after all, Chesapeake Shores, a town without any significant crime except for the occasional high school prank.

Even as Sam opened the back door of the car, he could hear Bobby’s soft snores. The boy looked so peaceful; it seemed a shame to wake him. Convincing himself his nephew would never be out of sight, he jogged across the street and went inside, grabbing a menu off the bar, then moving back to the doorway while he glanced through the offerings. Irish stew was the day’s special. That sounded healthy and filling. And how long could it possibly take to dish it into a container so Sam could be on his way?

After one more glance to reassure himself that Bobby hadn’t awakened, he returned to the bar, only to find no one there to take his order. In fact, the only person in the place was a young woman, her expression glum as she stared into a glass of wine she’d barely touched.

“What’s a man have to do to get some service in here?” he asked irritably.

The woman’s responding frown was likely justified, but Sam couldn’t worry about the impression he might be making. He had a child outside and way too much on his mind.

“Sorry,” she said in a cool, polite tone. “My cousin had to go in back to speak to the chef. He’ll be right out, I’m sure.”

“You don’t work here?”

“No, but if you’re in a hurry, I can get Luke.”

Sam nodded. “Please. Or can you just tell him I’d like two orders of the Irish stew to go?” He hesitated. “Do you think a six-year-old would like that?”

Her expression brightened. “Sure. It’s great. All the kids in our family love it. I’ll give Luke your order. He’ll fix you right up.”

Sam couldn’t help noticing the sexy high heels she was wearing when she slid off her bar stool. Those shoes drew attention to long, shapely legs. He didn’t know a lot about fashion, but he had a feeling she hadn’t bought them at the discount store out on the main highway. In fact, her entire outfit, as casual as it was, seemed to shout that it had come from a designer, not off the rack. A rich tourist, perhaps, though she did seem to be totally comfortable in here. And hadn’t she referred to the owner or the bartender as her cousin?

Sam didn’t have time to try to put the puzzle pieces together. He sure as heck didn’t have time to allow his curiosity to be stirred by a beautiful woman. His life had recently gotten more complicated than he could ever have imagined. Right now, he needed to get his food and get back to Bobby.

Once more, he went back to the door and glanced across the street. There was no sign that Bobby was stirring and nobody was standing beside the car looking alarmed that a child had been left alone inside. That didn’t mean Sam could be gone for much longer. The last thing he wanted was for Bobby to awaken, find himself alone and panic.

Pacing impatiently, he was startled when the woman appeared at his side, obviously on her way out.

“Your food’s on the way,” she said as she opened the door.

A light floral scent that reminded him of summer nights was left in her wake as she passed him, then headed across the street.

Sam saw the exact moment when she spotted Bobby. She stopped beside the car, did a double take, then turned back to give Sam a look that could have melted steel. She whirled around on those spike heels of hers and marched straight back in his direction.

The pub’s door slammed open and she stood before him.

“That’s your car?”

Sam nodded, a flush crawling up his face.

“You left your son in the car all alone? What were you thinking?” she demanded indignantly. “This may be a safe town, but no place is 100 percent safe. Plus it can get hot inside in practically no time, especially on a sunny day like this.”

Even though he knew she was probably justified in her indignation, Sam stared her down.

“Why is this your business?”

“Because innocent children need to be protected from irresponsible parents.”

“I’m not his parent,” Sam retorted, though not only was that not entirely true, he knew it was also hardly the point. He’d been a parent for about a nanosecond. He was still getting the hang of it. “He’s my nephew.”

Since her harsh stare didn’t waver at that, he found himself explaining. “His parents died in an accident two weeks ago. I’m just bringing him here to live with me. You’ll have to forgive me if I thought letting him finally get some rest was more important than dragging him over here to wait with me while I get some food. He was never out of my sight, was he? And the windows are all cracked, so there’s air circulating. Didn’t you see me standing right here by the door keeping an eye on him?”

“I suppose,” she said, backing down, but sparks still flashed in her eyes. “You can’t take chances with a child’s safety. Things can happen in the blink of an eye.”

“I’m well aware of that, probably more so than you are,” he said. “That’s what happened to my sister and brother-in-law. They were gone in the blink of an eye. Nobody could have anticipated that. And I sure as heck didn’t anticipate becoming a dad overnight.”

She faltered at that, her cheeks turning pink. “I’m sorry. Look, just go back to the car, okay? I’ll bring your food out as soon as it’s ready. It’ll make us both feel better if he’s not over there alone.”

Sam started to argue, then gave in. He pulled a couple of twenties from his wallet and gave them to her. “I’m not sure how much the bill will be, but this should cover it.”

She handed back one of the twenties. “This will do. I’m going to have Luke put some chocolate-chip cookies in with your order. They’re not on the menu, but he keeps them on hand for the kids in our family. They’re my great-grandmother’s recipe. She bakes once a week and brings them over here. She leaves a supply at my house, too, since most of the kids are in and out of there, too.”

The thought of home-baked cookies triggered a longing in Sam, one he hadn’t even realized he’d buried deep inside. “My grandmother used to do the same thing. She baked for the whole family. She’s been gone for years, but I still remember the way her kitchen smelled.”

A smile spread across the woman’s face at last. “There’s nothing like it, is there? Don’t ever tell Nell, if you happen to meet her, but I bake, too, just so my house will smell like that when the kids come by. I want to be the go-to aunt or cousin or neighbor when it comes to cookies.”

She shooed him toward the door. “Go. I’ll be over with your food in just a minute.”

Sam dutifully left the pub and crossed the street. He stood beside the car and waited for the woman to emerge with his order. At least he told himself his gaze was so intense because his stomach was rumbling, but the truth was, he wanted another glimpse of her. She was a mass of contradictions with her fancy clothes and home-baked cookies, the lost expression he’d caught on her face when he first noticed her sitting at the bar, and her fiery indignation when she’d found Bobby alone in the car.

Contradictions like that, though, usually meant trouble. And these days Sam had more of that than he could possibly handle.

2

Through the pub’s window, Carrie studied the man as he waited beside the car. He looked bone-weary. Little wonder after just suffering a tragic loss and then finding out he was responsible for his nephew. No longer furious about finding the boy alone in the car, she was able to cut the man some slack, but just this once. She’d be keeping an eye on him, and not because he was handsome as sin with his tousled hair, deep blue eyes and firm jaw, but because that child was likely in need of an advocate who knew something about kids.

When Luke emerged from the kitchen with the take-out order, Carrie held out her hand. “I’ll take it to him.”

Luke frowned. “Since when did we offer curbside service and how’d you get roped into it?”

“Just give me the bag. Did you put in some of Nell’s cookies?”

“You told me to, didn’t you? Of course I did. Are you picking up the check, too?”

“Very funny. His money’s by the register. Keep the change.”

She was about to open the door, when Luke called out.

“Carrie!”

She stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“Come back here after you’ve delivered that,” he said.

“I was going to head home.”

“Not just yet,” he said firmly.

A few years ago she might have reminded him he wasn’t the boss of her, but she was more mature now. “Fine,” she said grudgingly.

She crossed the street and handed over the bag. The aroma of the stew made her stomach rumble. Maybe returning to the pub was a good idea, after all. She could use some of that stew herself.

“Here, take this quick, before I decide to dive in and eat it myself,” she said, handing him the bag.

He reached for the bag, took a sniff and sighed. “It does smell good. I hope Bobby will eat it.”

“Is he a picky eater?”

“It’s hard to tell. He’s shown little interest in anything the past couple of weeks, but that could be because of the circumstances. The only thing I’ve been able to coax him to eat are burgers and French fries, but I know I need to break that habit.”

“Now you’re talking like a responsible parent,” she told him approvingly.

He gave her a wry look. “If only it were that easy. Make sure he eats healthy meals and all will be right in his world.”

“Are you staying here in Chesapeake Shores or just passing through?” When he didn’t immediately respond, she added, “I’m Carrie Winters, by the way.”

He held out his hand. “Sam Winslow. I gather you’re a local.”

“Absolutely. My cousin Luke owns the pub. I think I mentioned that. My grandfather, Mick O’Brien, designed the whole town.”

He regarded her with amusement. “Is that what entitles you to dig into the lives of everyone you meet?”

“That’s just natural curiosity,” she said, trying to keep a defensive note from her voice. “And friendliness. Chesapeake Shores is known for being a very friendly town. We roll out the welcome mat for strangers. You’d know that if you’d spent any time here, which must mean you’re passing through.”

For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then he sighed heavily. “Actually I moved here about two weeks before my sister’s accident. I’m the new web designer and tech expert for the local paper.”

Carrie’s mood immediately improved. She beamed at him. “Then you’re working for Mack Franklin. That makes you practically family. He’s married to my cousin Susie—well, my second cousin, actually—she’s Luke’s sister.”

He shook his head, amazement written on his face. “There really are O’Briens everywhere in this town, aren’t there?”

She gestured toward the carved gold letters on a dark green background on the front of the pub. “We don’t try to hide it,” she said. “And there are a lot of us, especially when you take into account extended family. And it’s a close-knit community in general. You’re going to love it here, and it will be a great place for your nephew to grow up.”

Exhaustion and defeat seemed to settle on his face once more. “I hope so. His parents dying so suddenly, moving to a new place plus adapting to having me as, well, whatever I’m supposed to be now.” He shook his head. “It’s a lot for a six-year-old to handle.”

Carrie could only imagine how difficult it must be, and not just for a little boy, but for this man, as well. “If you ever want to talk to someone, my aunt Jess, who owns the Inn at Eagle Point, is married to a shrink.”

“Will Lincoln?” he said, looking surprised.

“You’ve met him?”

“I’m still staying at the inn till I can find a place to buy or rent. I’ve had a couple of conversations with Will. He invited me to join some of the guys to shoot hoops. He never mentioned what he does for a living.”

“He’s a great guy. Or if you just need somebody to listen, Luke’s not bad. He lives up to the stereotype of a bartender who can listen without passing judgment. That’s why I was in there tonight spilling my guts to him. I have a slew of people in my family who’d happily listen, but not without telling me what to do. Luke just threw out suggestions. He gave me some interesting food for thought.”

Sam looked her over skeptically, apparently leaping to conclusions based on her designer clothes, the ridiculously expensive shoes she loved and the flawless makeup she’d learned to apply working in fashion, where looks mattered. Being in the world of cover models required that she pay a lot of attention to her own appearance if she hoped to compete. Was it too much for Chesapeake Shores? So what if it was? It was hardly something she needed to apologize for. Since when was looking presentable in public a crime?

“You have problems?” he asked, proving she’d read his disdain correctly.

“Everybody has problems,” she said. “Some are worse than others, but that doesn’t mean they don’t matter to the people trying to get through them.”

“Tell me about yours,” he said. “Did you have trouble deciding what to wear tonight? Perhaps your Porsche wouldn’t start? Or maybe you accepted a date with a guy and are trying to figure out how to get out of it?”

The comments suggesting that she was so shallow stung, especially coming from a man who couldn’t possibly know anything about her.

She backed off at once, no longer trying to hide her annoyance. “Look, I was just trying to help. That’s what we do in this town. I don’t deserve to be judged or insulted.”

He turned and faced her then, and she could clearly see the despair in his dark, shadowed eyes along with what was perhaps just a hint of guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Truly. I don’t know what got into me. I usually have better manners than that.”

“You obviously have a lot on your mind,” she said, deciding yet again to make allowances. It seemed she was being called on to make a lot of allowances, something she rarely did. “Sometimes sharing a burden helps. If you don’t want to talk to me or Luke, just about anyone in Chesapeake Shores would be eager to listen and lend a helping hand.”

“I’m not sure there’s a well-meaning person on earth who can fix this,” he told her.

“Well, as difficult as it might be, time usually takes care of most problems.” She gave him a rueful look. “And just so you know, I don’t have the patience for waiting for that to happen, either. I’m just told that it’s true.”

He smiled as she’d intended.

“I’m pretty sure this test was designed to try mine, too,” he admitted. “They do say karma has a way of getting you. A couple of weeks ago I was a pretty carefree guy. Now I’m tense and capable of biting off the head of someone who’s only trying to be nice.”

“You’re probably entitled, but fair warning,” she said lightly. “I won’t let you get away with it again.”

“Thank you.” He looked away. “The grief, that’s one thing. You’re right. I’ll get over that in time. But becoming a dad to a boy I’ve only seen a few times before...” He shook his head. “I have no idea how to do that.” He gave her another doubtful look. “Any thoughts on that?”

“One day at a time,” she said at once. “I know it sounds glib, but that’s the only way to do anything that’s difficult, at least that’s what my family is always saying. And ask for help when you need it.”

“I’ve always relied on myself. My parents are long gone and my sister and I, well, we’d had our differences. We hadn’t been all that close the past few years, which is another reason this custody arrangement came as such a shock.” Sorrow darkened his eyes. “Now I get to live with regret for not doing more to mend fences. We always think we have all the time in the world to fix things.”

“I’ve found that regrets are usually pointless,” she told him. “The situation is what it is. You have a child to consider now. If you do right by him, I’m sure that’s all that would really matter to your sister. And trust me, when word gets around about what you’re going through, you’ll have all the support you could possibly need.”

She hesitated, tried to talk herself out of making an impulsive offer, but then made it, anyway. “In fact, if you need any help with day care, I can probably help out. I don’t run a day care, but I watch my sister’s baby a few days a week. Several of my younger cousins stop by from time to time to hang out. Your nephew would be welcome. I have an endless supply of cookies on hand and a lot of the coolest toys.”

For the first time since they’d met, Sam smiled, and it actually reached his eyes. Carrie’s heart did a sudden and entirely predictable flip, something that hadn’t happened to her in all the months since she’d been away from Europe and Marc. It was disconcerting—and very untimely, given her recent resolution to avoid jumping into another relationship anytime soon.

“I’d better get back to the pub,” she said hurriedly. “Luke’s waiting for me. And I hear a bowl of that stew calling my name.”

“Sure,” Sam said and held up the bag. “Thanks for bringing this to me, and for the cookies.”

“No problem. And remember what I said, if you need help, ask. You can always get my cell phone number or address from Luke or Mack or Susie.”

She turned and crossed the street quickly. She hesitated for just an instant, trying to assure that there was a perfectly neutral expression on her face before she saw Luke. She was careful not to glance over her shoulder to see if Sam had left or even waved. He was just a guy, after all, a customer. She didn’t need her cousin going all protective on her.

“You took long enough,” Luke said, frowning when she finally went inside.

“You’re lucky I came back at all,” she retorted. “You know how we all dislike being ordered to do anything. And I’m only here for some of that Irish stew, not for one of your lectures.”

Luke’s scowl deepened. “I just want to know why you were waiting on that guy. It’s not as if you work here. And he was rude. I might have been in the kitchen, but I’m not deaf. I heard the way he talked to you when he first came in.”

“There were extenuating circumstances,” she said.

“Really? Tell me.”

She debated doing just that, but decided it wasn’t her story to tell. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing him around. He’s working for Mack. Get your sister to fill you in. Forget about the stew. I’m going home.”

“Please just tell me you have no interest in him beyond being nice to one of my customers,” her cousin said.

“What if I can’t say that?”

“Carrie, come on. That guy has issues.”

“No question about it,” she agreed.

“Don’t you have enough issues of your own without taking on his?”

“I’m not taking on anything. I’m being friendly. That’s what we do around here. Ask Mick.”

Luke groaned. “Blast it all! I leave you alone in here for five minutes and you manage to get tangled up in trouble.”

She laughed at the exaggeration. “Stop fretting. I’m not tangled up in anything,” she said, waving as she went out the door.

Not yet, anyway.

* * *

Mick watched his granddaughter walk away from O’Brien’s as if she were in a big hurry to get somewhere. She didn’t even turn around when he called out to her.

“What’s going on with her?” he grumbled to his wife as he held open the door to the pub. “Since when does she ignore her own grandfather?”

“When she doesn’t want to talk about whatever’s on her mind,” Megan said. “Ever since she came home, you’ve been all over her to make some decisions about her future. Maybe she’s tired of it.”

“Well, she needs to stop wasting time,” he replied. “You can’t tell me she’s still brokenhearted over the jerk in Europe. He obviously wasn’t good enough for her.”

“Not your call,” Megan reminded him. “It’s not about whether he was or wasn’t good enough for her, or about how long it should take her to get over him.”

Mick just scowled at his wife. He hated it when Megan got all reasonable and pointed out that he couldn’t control everything around him, especially when it came to his own family. Okay, she was usually right, but that didn’t mean he should stop trying to make sure things worked out the way they were supposed to.

“Hey, Uncle Mick,” Luke said. “Aunt Megan. Do you all want a table or are you going to sit at the bar?”

“We’ll sit at the bar,” Mick told him. “Then you can fill us in on why Carrie was in such a state when she left here.”

“Mick!” Megan protested. “Don’t involve Luke in this.”

Luke regarded them with an innocent expression that Mick wasn’t buying for a second.

“Was she in some kind of a state?” Luke inquired, as if he hadn’t noticed a thing out of the ordinary about her mood.

Mick frowned at him. “Did all you kids make a pact to keep me in the dark about things?”

His nephew laughed. “No pact,” he insisted. “But I did take an oath to protect my customers’ privacy.”

“Carrie’s not a customer. She’s family.”

“Then march right on over to her house and ask her yourself,” Luke suggested, setting a pint of ale in front of Mick and a glass of red wine in front of Megan, who was trying hard to bite back a smile.

“Ungrateful wretch,” Mick mumbled.

“Watch it or I’ll tell Gram you were calling me names,” Luke retorted.

“Ma doesn’t scare me,” Mick said.

“Well, she ought to,” Megan said. “Now hush. Let’s have a nice dinner and then go home.”

Mick sighed as Luke beat a hasty retreat, leaving him to stew over the lack of information. “You’re both acting as if I’m in the wrong for being concerned about my own granddaughter,” he told Megan.

“Not wrong,” she soothed. “Just misguided. Carrie’s a grown woman. She’ll figure things out for herself. And to be honest, Mick, the more you push, the harder you’ll make that for her. Stubbornness is a family trait. You, of all people, ought to know that.”

He scowled at his wife. “You saying I’m stubborn?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “You are the king of stubborn!” she declared. “But you’re also caring and thoughtful and I wouldn’t have you any other way. Just, please, this once, stop your meddling. It was partly because of your good intentions that our Caitlyn barely made it down the aisle before her baby was born. Learn from past mistakes.”

“Caitlyn’s married now, isn’t she? And every one of our kids and my brother Jeff’s are settled and happy, in some measure due to my so-called good intentions.”

“In spite of,” Megan corrected. She called out to Luke, who was hovering just out of view in the kitchen doorway. “Luke, bring us some of that stew, and hurry, please. Maybe if Mick’s stomach is full of some good old-fashioned Irish food, he’ll take a break from fretting about Carrie.”

Mick frowned at the suggestion. “I’m perfectly capable of doing two things at once,” he told her.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I know,” she said quietly. “More’s the pity. If you need something else to chew on, how about this?”

The suggestion she whispered in his ear for how they might spend the rest of the evening pretty much wiped all thoughts of his granddaughter and her problems right out of his head. He grinned at his wife.

“Clever woman,” he murmured approvingly.

“You haven’t loved me all these years for no reason,” she said smugly.

Mick sighed. That was true enough. Even during all the years they’d been apart, he’d loved her to pieces. It had just taken getting past his hurt pride to give him the courage to fight to win her back. Now that he had, maybe he shouldn’t be wasting quite so much time on fixing everybody else’s lives.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he offered.

“What’s that?”

“For the rest of tonight you have my full attention.”

“And then?” she asked.

“You run your art gallery during the day, and I’ll do the things I need to do.”

“Of course you will,” she said with a sigh. “But if that’s the best I can hope for, at least Carrie will have the night off from your interference.”

Mick gave a nod of satisfaction. He doubted Carrie’s problem would resolve itself overnight. He’d make it his priority first thing in the morning.

* * *

Carrie wandered around the cottage, half expecting her grandfather to appear any minute with more of his questions and disappointed looks when she had no answers for him. When he never appeared, she knew she probably had Grandma Megan and maybe even Luke to thank.

Oddly enough, she would have welcomed the distraction of one of Grandpa Mick’s cross-examinations. Images of Sam Winslow were a little too enticing for her comfort, especially when counterpointed against the disdain she’d felt radiating from him during their conversation. Add in his boneheaded move of leaving his nephew alone in the car, no matter how he’d justified it, and he definitely wasn’t someone she should be giving the time of day. Luke had probably been right about that. She wasn’t crazy about acknowledging that, either.

When her phone rang, she seized it, grateful for the excuse to escape her conflicted reaction to the man.

“Who was the guy?” her twin asked the second Carrie answered.

“Excuse me?”

“The guy at the pub,” Caitlyn said. “The one who got you all tied up in knots.”

“There was no guy,” Carrie said, then amended, “Well, there was a man who came in. We had words. I actually yelled at him.”

“You yelled at him,” Cait repeated, sounding shocked. “Why would you do that?”

“He left a child alone in his parked car. I discovered the boy sound asleep in the backseat when I was leaving the pub.”

“So this guy left a sleeping child in a car, then came into the pub to drink?”

“Not to drink,” Carrie said hurriedly. “To order takeout. And to be fair, he was keeping an eye on the boy the whole time, but I freaked out just the same.”

“I don’t blame you. But the second you realized the guy was an irresponsible jerk, why’d you hang out with him?”

“I didn’t hang out with him,” Carrie replied impatiently. “How’d you hear about this, anyway?”

“Noah stopped by the pub after work with Jackson. He and Luke got to talking. Luke was worried. He thought he detected some sparks flying between the two of you.”

“Luke never even saw us in the same room,” Carrie argued. “He doesn’t know anything.”

“Okay, he has his suspicions,” Caitlyn said with exaggerated patience. “He shared them with Noah.”

“Please tell me Grandpa Mick was nowhere around when they had this conversation.”

“Noah didn’t mention our grandfather. Why would you think he was there?”

“Because he and Grandma Megan were going in just after I left. He called out to me, but I pretended not to hear him and kept on walking.”

“Oh, boy!” Cait said. “I’m sure that went over well. Don’t you know by now that just makes Grandpa Mick more determined to find out what’s going on?”

“I know,” Carrie said with a sigh. “I’ve been expecting him to turn up here ever since I got home.”

“So you apparently got a reprieve till morning,” Cait concluded. “Now tell me more about this guy who’s a jerk. What’s his name?”

“Sam Winslow. He’s the new web designer and tech expert for Mack at the paper. You know how much Mack depends on whoever’s in that position. He says the paper’s web presence is what’s saving it from failure. The guy can’t be a total flake if Mack trusts him.”

“And the boy? Is Sam a single dad?”

Carrie told her what she knew of how the boy had come to be with Sam. The story was met with an uncomfortable silence.

“Come on,” she said, resigned to the inevitable. “Say something. I know you want to.”

“Oh, sweetie, you already know what I’m going to tell you,” Caitlyn said, sounding worried. “Stay far, far away from this situation. You’ll get sucked in. I know you will, and there’s a very good chance you’ll get your heart broken.”

“How can you say that? He obviously needs help.”

“Not from you,” Cait insisted. “You’re vulnerable. You want a family too much. He’ll take advantage of that.”

“Nobody’s going to take advantage of me,” Carrie replied irritably.

“Marc did,” Cait reminded her gently.

“That was different.”

“It was,” her sister agreed. “He didn’t have a child to sweeten the appeal.”

“You’re wrong,” Carrie said. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”

“Don’t hang up angry,” Cait pleaded. “Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying.”

No, Carrie thought with a sigh. She was saying so much more. Worse, just like Luke, she was probably right.

3

Sam put the dinner he’d ordered at O’Brien’s into the backseat of his SUV next to Bobby. The boy had been sleeping while he was talking to Carrie Winters, but he was wide-awake now and looking around with a curious expression.

“Are we home yet?” he asked Sam, his tone plaintive.

“Just about, buddy. We’ll be home in a couple of minutes. I stopped long enough to pick up some dinner for us.”

“Where? I don’t see McDonald’s.”

Sam pointed to O’Brien’s. “See the restaurant right across the street? Dinner came from there and it’s going to be delicious. I’m told there might even be some homemade cookies in the bag for dessert.”

“How come you didn’t take me with you?”

“You were sleeping.”

Bobby’s expression turned serious. “Mommy never left me alone in the car. She said it was too dangerous, even when I told her I was big enough to take care of myself.”

Once again, all of his shortcomings as a prospective father slapped Sam in the face. He’d discovered that no one could induce guilt quite like a six-year-old...except, perhaps, an indignant, red-haired stranger.

“Your mom was absolutely right, but you were just a few yards away and right where I could see you the whole time I was inside the restaurant,” Sam said in his own defense. He wondered if that sounded as hollow to Bobby as it obviously had to Carrie Winters?

“And Chesapeake Shores is a lot safer than the city, even one as safe as Louisville,” he added for good measure.

“Does that mean I can play outside by myself?” Bobby asked hopefully. “Mommy never let me do that. She said I always had to be with a grown-up.”

That sounded just like Laurel, Sam thought. As far back as he could remember she’d been making up rules and issuing orders. As a kid he’d resented it, but with the hindsight of maturity, he could see that she’d been trying to make up for the chaos of their family life. It had been her self-assigned task to protect him. Recalling how often they’d butted heads and recognizing now how good her intentions had been brought the sting of tears to his eyes. How had he let some stupid argument come between them?

“We’ll have to work that out,” Sam hedged, fighting tears as he drove along the curving, waterfront road to the Inn at Eagle Point. He’d vowed not to show any sign of weakness in front of his nephew. Bobby needed to believe in him.

“First we need to get you enrolled in school, so you can make lots of new friends this fall,” Sam continued, injecting an upbeat note into his voice. “And we need to find a real house so you can have your own room and maybe even a big yard to play in.”

Bobby’s eyes widened. “You don’t live in a house?”

“Not yet. I just moved here, remember? I’m staying at an inn. It looks just like a great big house, though.”

“I went to a hotel once. Is it like that?” His eyes brightened with excitement. “Does it have room service?”

“I haven’t tried it, but I imagine it does. We can check that out in the morning. I know it has a dining room with lots of windows so you can see the bay and all the big birds like osprey and eagles. I can say for a fact that the pancakes are really, really good.”

The last hint of Bobby’s uncertainty vanished completely. “I love pancakes,” he said with a sigh of satisfaction. “Mommy only made them on Sundays, though.”

“Well, here you can have them any day you want them,” Sam promised. “At least as long as we’re at the inn.”

His nephew fell silent until they pulled into the parking lot of the inn. “Wow! It’s the biggest house ever! Can I play in the yard? Can we go swimming?” His eyes grew even bigger. “It even has a pool. I never, ever want to leave here.”

Sam chuckled at his sudden burst of enthusiasm. It had been in short supply for the past couple of weeks as Sam had dealt with the details of the funeral, putting his sister’s house up for sale, and facing the shocking news that he’d been named Bobby’s guardian. His sister’s in-laws had threatened to fight him for custody until the lawyer had convinced them the will was airtight and that Sam had the energy to cope with an inquisitive, lively six-year-old, something a retired couple in their sixties and living on a fixed income might not be able to handle.

“I’m afraid we can’t stay here forever,” he told Bobby. “It costs a lot of money, but I promise you we’ll pick a house that you’re going to love just as much. You can help me decide on the right one.”

A familiar frown settled on Bobby’s face and Sam’s stomach tied itself into knots. He could feel the disappointment radiating from the backseat. How many times was he destined to let this boy down before everyone realized what a mistake had been made in giving him custody?

“Sam?” Bobby whispered hesitantly.

Sam turned and saw tears dampening Bobby’s round cheeks and realized this was about more than staying at the inn. “What, buddy?”

“If we keep moving, how are Mommy and Daddy going to find us?”

Sam’s heart twisted. “We talked about that, remember? Your mommy and daddy can’t come back. They’re in heaven.”

“But you said that even in heaven, they’d always be looking out for me. How are they going to find me?” he asked, his expression way too serious and worried for a child his age.

Sam had never felt more out of his depth in his life. “That’s the thing about heaven,” he said eventually, praying he was getting it right. “The people we love who live there can see us wherever we are. Your mom and dad will always know exactly where you are and when they asked me to take care of you, they knew I was in Chesapeake Shores.”

“Have they been here?”

“No, but I’ll bet they have this amazing GPS thing in heaven and it’s already guided them right here.”

“Really?”

Sam nodded, though he was certain of no such thing. He wanted to believe. He really did. But what sort of god took away a little boy’s parents and left him all alone with an uncle who didn’t have a clue about how to raise himself, much less a child? Even as those words crossed his mind, he remembered Laurel saying much the same thing, telling him it was time to stop his restless roaming and grow up. He’d accused her—yet, again—of trying to control him. The heated exchange, one of many in a similar vein, had occurred months ago, but it had been the last straw. After that he’d simply avoided taking his sister’s calls, leaving messages when he’d known she wouldn’t be home so she wouldn’t worry, but not wanting to risk another lecture on his flaws. Despite the distance that had grown between them, she’d never stopped texting pictures of Bobby or sending notes on special occasions. To her credit, she’d done all she could to keep the lines of communication open, while he’d behaved like a spoiled jerk. He’d live with that regret the rest of his life.

Sam climbed out of the car, then opened the back door to help Bobby out of his booster seat, but the boy had already scrambled free. He raced across the wide expanse of green lawn toward the water, then turned back just as Sam feared he might go toppling straight over the edge of the cliff overlooking the bay. He had to remember just how fast a six-year-old could move and do a better job of staying on his toes at all times.

“Come on, kid. Let’s go in and eat dinner before it gets cold. Then we can get you settled down for the night. We’ve had a long day. Tomorrow’s soon enough to deal with all the complicated stuff.”

And maybe by tomorrow, he’d have some clue about how to do that. Surprisingly, it was the memory of Carrie Winters’s impulsive offer to help out with day care that centered him enough to get through one more night. Even if he never took her up on it, just knowing backup was around seemed to ease his panic.

* * *

Carrie knew that the odds of getting through the morning without a visit from her grandfather were between slim and none. To at least postpone the inevitable, she headed to the café on Main Street for breakfast. There was a very good chance there would be lots of family around since many of her aunts had stores nearby, and her grandmother’s art gallery was right around the corner. They tended to start their day at Sally’s with coffee, raspberry croissants and conversation. Carrie could catch up on the town gossip and avoid her grandfather at the same time. Then she could go by Noah’s and pick up Jackson for the day since Noah had office hours from early morning until dinnertime on Wednesdays.

Sure enough, at Sally’s she found her aunts Bree, Shanna and Heather already on their second cups of coffee, telltale crumbs from their croissants still on their plates. Two raspberry and one chocolate, from the look of it.

“Did you leave any of those croissants for me?” she demanded as she slid into the booth beside Bree.

“I put a chocolate one aside for you,” Sally told her with a wink as she poured a cup of coffee. “And there’s a raspberry for your grandmother when she gets here, too.”

“Thank you,” Carrie said gratefully. “You’re the best.”

“I just know my customers. I hear a lot of talk about carbs and dieting when you all are in here, but there’s not a morning that goes by that my tray of fresh croissants doesn’t magically disappear.”

After Sally left to get her croissant, Carrie glanced around the table and noted all the expectant looks. “So, what’s up?”

“Maybe you should tell us,” Bree suggested slyly. “Word on the family grapevine is that you had a little tiff with a man at the pub last night. Luke swears he saw sparks. He may be a lot of things, but he’s not usually attuned to those kind of undercurrents, so I’m guessing they had to be more like fireworks for him to notice.”

Carrie took a deep breath as she tried to avoid the sea of curious stares. She needed a strategy to get out of this conversation. She gazed at each woman intently, then began innocently, “Out of my deep respect for you as my elders...”

Before she could complete the sentence, her words drew the expected horrified gasps. She barely managed to contain a chuckle at their predictable reaction.

“And because of my deep understanding of what each of you went through with too much meddling in your lives,” she continued, then beamed at Bree, “I’m going to ignore that line of conversation.”

Heather was the first to recover. “Nicely played,” she said, a note of grudging approval in her voice.

“But we don’t have to like it,” Shanna added.

“And I’m gonna tell your mother you called us old,” Bree claimed, looking thoroughly disgruntled. “Since she’s older than any of us, I doubt she’ll appreciate it.”

Carrie laughed. “I didn’t call you old. I said you were my elders. That’s an undeniable truth. And I do respect each and every one of you. Be sure to tell Mom I said that, too.”

“So we’re not going to get a thing out of you about the man?” Heather asked, clearly disappointed.

“Nothing to tell,” Carrie insisted. “You could always ask Susie about him. The guy’s working for Mack at the paper. They’re bound to have crossed paths.”

All three women promptly looked dismayed. Carrie studied their faces, then asked, “What? Has something happened with Susie? I ran into her a couple of days ago. She seemed fine then.”

“You know she and Mack want a baby in the worst way,” Bree said.

“Sure,” Carrie said. “They finally decided to adopt. I thought Uncle Connor was trying to help with a private adoption through his old law firm in Baltimore. Susie was practically bursting with excitement when I saw her. She said the baby was due any minute.” A horrifying thought occurred to her. “Nothing happened to the baby, did it?”

“Not exactly,” Heather responded. “Not the way you mean.”

“Then what?” Carrie asked.

“Connor kept cautioning them that things could go wrong, but Susie was so sure this was it. If you saw her, you know how she was floating on air, making all these plans. And then, at the very last minute, the mother got together with her boyfriend and they decided to keep the baby.”

“Oh, no,” Carrie whispered.

“Susie’s devastated. Connor said the look on her face when he broke the news was something he hoped never to see again. Nothing Mack said or did could console her. She says she can’t go through that again.”

“She’s giving up?” Carrie asked, genuinely shocked. O’Briens didn’t give up that easily, not when something truly mattered as much as a baby mattered to Susie.

“That’s what she told Connor,” Heather confirmed. “Mack thinks she’ll come around once she gets over this latest disappointment, but I don’t know. I spoke to her last night for about two minutes. She sounded terrible, but the one thing she seemed certain about was her decision that this was it. I offered to go over so she could vent, but she said she wasn’t in the mood for company, that there was nothing more to be said, anyway.”

“And she’s not here this morning,” Shanna added. “The last time they got close and the adoption fell apart, she didn’t leave the house for a week. This time could be worse. She really thought a private adoption was the answer, a guarantee of some kind, despite all Connor’s warnings that things could go wrong.”

“She’d actually painted the nursery this time, because she knew it was going to be a girl,” Bree said. “I was over there just last week and she had drawers filled with frilly little outfits for the baby.”

“That’s so sad,” Carrie said, unable to imagine the depth of Susie’s disappointment. She’d been so brave all through her bout with ovarian cancer, even after finding out she’d never have children of her own. Now this.

“Is there anything I can do?” Carrie asked.

“She has to come to us,” Bree said. “She’ll do that when she’s ready. I’m hoping she’ll talk to Jess. For being such rivals when they were kids, they formed a really close bond during Susie’s cancer treatments. Maybe she’ll open up to her.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Carrie asked, not liking the idea of Susie going through this alone. Families were supposed to stick together in times of crisis, even when the person pushed them away. That was another of the lessons Nell had taught all of them.

“Then we’ll go to her in a few days,” Heather assured her. “You, too, if you want to come.” She sighed. “Although right now I have a new baby at home. I’m not sure how she feels about that. She says all the right things, but I’ve seen the stricken look on her face when she has to be around the baby.”

“So have I,” Shanna said. She and Carrie’s uncle Kevin had just had another child, as well. “She skipped the whole christening and the party afterward. She had an excuse, but it was pretty flimsy.”

“It must just about kill her to be around all these babies in our family,” Bree said. “But we can’t feel guilty about it. All we can do is try to be understanding and supportive.”

Carrie sat back in her seat and sighed, thinking of Sam and how he’d become a dad when he least expected it. Did he appreciate what a gift that was? Maybe in time he would, but right now there was little question that he was struggling with it. And there was Susie, desperate to hold a child of her own, but running out of options. Life sometimes truly was unfair. Nell would assure them all that God had a plan, but Carrie sure wished He’d let them all in on it.

* * *

Mack was at his wit’s end. Susie had been sitting on the deck of their home on Beach Lane for hours, staring out at the bay and clutching the handmade baby quilt she’d bought at Heather’s shop.

He’d known when she’d brought it home that the quilt was a bad idea and that painting the nursery and buying a boatload of baby clothes were even worse ideas, but Susie hadn’t been deterred. She’d believed with every fiber of her being that this time they were going to get their child, a daughter, according to Connor’s former associate in Baltimore, the lawyer handling the arrangements.

“Babe, come inside,” he begged. “You need some sleep.”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

“You were out here all night.” He knew because he’d awakened to an empty bed. He’d checked on her half a dozen times during the night, but she’d refused to come back to bed.

Heaving a resigned sigh, Mack brought his coffee and joined her on the deck, ignoring the look that told him she’d prefer to go right on being alone.

He set the coffee aside, then pulled his chair close enough to reach for her hand. Even though it was a warm morning, her hand was like ice and trembled in his, but at least she didn’t pull away.

Susie was the bravest, most courageous woman he’d ever known. He’d never seen her this defeated, not even when she’d been battling cancer and sickened by chemo and radiation. She’d had her share of down moments, her doubts about her future, but this was different. There was a steely resolve behind her decision to give up, one that left little room for argument or hope.

“I love you,” he told her, holding on tight, willing her to draw on his strength.

She turned and gave him a vague smile. “I know.”

“Are you ready to talk about this?”

Once again she shook her head. “What is there to talk about?”

“What we’re going to do next,” he suggested.

“Nothing,” she said flatly. “It’s over.”

“It’s only over if we give up.”

“Well, that’s what I’m doing. I’m giving up.” She turned and gave him an earnest look. “I can’t go through this again, Mack. Now I have some idea of how women feel after miscarriages. They carry this little baby inside of them, inside their hearts, even if only for a few weeks, and then it’s over. There’s no baby to hold.”

“The right baby will come along,” he insisted, though he knew no such thing. “Or we could look into an older child adoption. Think of all the children who need loving families, kids who’ve bounced around in foster care. We could open our hearts and our home to them. Maybe that’s what we’re meant to do.”

Susie closed her eyes and, he suspected, her ears, to block out his words. “I can’t do it, Mack. Please don’t hate me, but I can’t.”

Mack wasn’t sure what to say. Susie had always been more certain about parenthood than he was. It had been her dream and, because he loved her so blasted deeply, he’d wanted to give her that, no matter how the child came into their lives. He could accept her decision and move on, but he knew in his heart the day would come when she’d regret it. Maybe he needed to accept her decision for now, then bring this up again when this latest wound wasn’t so fresh.

She glanced his way. “Have you heard from Sam? How’s he coping with losing his sister?”

“He’s doing okay, I think,” Mack said, relieved to have her show an interest in something, even if she was only doing it to change the subject. “The accident came as a terrible shock, but there’s more. He’s reeling, in fact.”

Real interest sparked in her eyes. “Why? What else happened?”

“His sister and brother-in-law named him guardian of their son, a six-year-old boy.”

Shock spread across her face. “Sam’s a dad? Just like that?”

Mack hesitated, sensing that the news had stirred envy as much as surprise. He should have considered that and kept quiet, but it was out there now.

“It was a shock to him, too,” Mack reported. “He said he’d tell me more when he got back to town. I think he was hoping to make it by last night. I imagine he’ll check in later today. I told him to take as long as he needs. We can manage okay at the paper for another week, if he needs that long to deal with the situation. Even longer, if need be.”

That vacant stare returned to Susie’s eyes. “Sam has a son,” she murmured. “Of all people.”

“Hey,” Mack protested. “Sam’s a good guy.”

“I suppose so. He’s a talented web designer, for sure, and a tech genius to hear you tell it, but come on, Mack, do you really see him as dad material?”

“I’m the last person to ask about that. I don’t know what it takes to be a good father.”

“Reliability’s a good place to start,” she said.

“Sam is reliable.”

“He left you in the lurch right after he started on the job,” she said, a critical note in her voice.

“Babe, his sister and brother-in-law were killed. Did you expect him not to attend the funeral?”

“Well, he hasn’t exactly settled down, has he? He’s still living at the inn.”

Mack suspected she was uttering these judgments for a reason, one he didn’t particularly like. “He’d only been here a couple of weeks, hardly enough time to find a house or even an apartment,” he said, defending Sam. “Where are you going with this, Suze?”

“How many jobs has he held over the past few years? Three? Four? What kind of man does that?” she asked without responding to his question about her motives.

“Someone who’s talented and very much in demand in a new field,” Mack replied, not sure why he was so ardently defending a man he barely knew himself, but having the feeling that he needed to make his position clear. Susie seemed to be heading in a worrisome direction. She’d liked Sam well enough when they’d had him over for dinner. This had to be about the boy, though Mack hoped he was wrong about that.

“We should go over to the inn and see how they’re doing,” she said out of the blue, standing up and proving that Mack’s instincts had been right on target.

“This morning? You haven’t slept a wink. You need rest more than you need to be running around paying social calls.”

She frowned at him. “I want to see for myself how Sam’s coping with a child to care for.”

Since Mack had been praying for a distraction for Susie, even one as misguided as he was sure this one was, he told himself he could control the situation and gave in.

“While you take a shower, I’ll call Jess to see if he’s back. If he is, we’ll go when you’re dressed,” he said.

“Why wait?” she asked, giving him a bewildered look.

“Because you’ve been wearing that same robe for the past two days. You can’t go anywhere in that.”

She glanced down as if surprised by the reminder. “I won’t take long,” she promised. “I know you need to get to work. Go ahead, if you want to. I can stop by on my own.”

“Not a chance. I’m going with you,” Mack said. He needed to see for himself if his wife intended something more than a kindhearted visit to an employee who’d just suffered a terrible loss.

Susie leveled a knowing gaze straight at him. “I’m not jumping off the deep end,” she told him. “I know I can’t go swooping in and take a little boy away from Sam, no matter how desperate I might be feeling.”

Mack was relieved to hear her express his exact concern. “I’m glad to hear that’s not what you were thinking.”

She touched his cheek. “I love you for caring so much and for worrying about me. I’m sad, but I’m not crazy.”

He pulled her into his arms. “I never, for even a second, thought you were.”

A faint smile tugged at her lips. “It crossed your mind, Mack Franklin. Don’t you dare try to deny it. I honestly can’t blame you. I have been sitting around here wallowing ever since Connor told us we weren’t going to get our baby. I’ll probably wallow some more before I’m done.”

He rested his chin on the top of her head and held her close. “Take all the time you need. And if checking on Sam and his nephew will reassure you somehow, I’m all for it. I imagine he’ll appreciate the gesture. He must be freaking out about now.”

“I hope not,” she said, her expression turning wistful. “I hope he’s on his knees thanking God for the gift he’s been given.”

Mack tucked a finger under her chin. “Suze, if he’s not there just yet, it doesn’t mean he won’t get there. Look how long it’s taken me to believe I could be a decent parent. After growing up with poor examples in my life, I had more doubts than anyone could imagine, but you believed in me. So did your family. Sam needs our support, not somebody waiting in the wings to snatch that child away at the first sign of a misstep.”

“I know that,” she said, indignation in her voice, even as she was careful to avoid his gaze.

Mack wished she were half as convincing as she’d obviously intended to be. Instead, he feared what might happen if she seized on the situation to fill the empty space in her heart. The past few days of despair would seem like a picnic compared to the heartache in store if that happened.

4

With Susie still very much on her mind, Carrie walked the few blocks to the house that had been converted into Noah’s medical offices on the ground floor. The upstairs had been turned into a cozy apartment for him, Cait and the baby. Once Cait was finished with her medical training and home for good, it would probably be much too small for a growing family, but for now Grandpa Mick had converted it into a warm, welcoming home. It was too bad, Carrie thought, that her twin was rarely here to enjoy it or her family.

Carrie used her key to the side entrance to the offices and found Noah’s nurse, Wendy Kaine, already there, bustling around in the brightly painted examining rooms, getting ready for another busy day.

“You here to pick up the little man?” Wendy asked with a grin as a wail carried all the way from upstairs. “Good luck. He seems to be expressing himself quite clearly today. He is not a happy little boy.”

Carrie winced at the sound. Noah, who prided himself on soothing even his most difficult young patients, must be at his wit’s end about now. “I could hide out down here till his daddy gets him calmed down,” she whispered to Wendy.

“Coward,” the nurse accused. “March right on up there and show the two of them who’s boss.”

“Noah’s probably trying to make him eat more of that boring baby cereal again,” Carrie said. “Jackson really hates that stuff. I guess I should go up and save him.”

“Him who? Jackson or Noah?” Wendy asked. “I’m sure the baby will appreciate it. Noah, too. I know I will.”

Carrie hurried up the steps, tapped on the door to the living quarters—not that it could likely be heard over the baby’s noisy sobs—and went inside.

Sure enough, Noah had a spoon in his hand, a frustrated expression on his face, and far more cereal on his shirt than could possibly be in the little boy who was waving his fists and had big, fat tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.

Jackson spotted Carrie and immediately held out his arms. A drooling smile lit up his face.

She grinned at Noah, then passed him and picked up the eight-month-old. “That’s right, sweetie. Aunt Carrie is here to save you from having to eat that nasty old cereal.”

Noah frowned at her. “You’ve been telling me he eats it for you.”

She leaned closer, the baby clinging tightly to her. “Want to know my secret?”

“Please,” he said, sounding a little desperate.

“I mix in a little applesauce. He loves applesauce.”

Noah closed his eyes. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you probably never tasted the cereal yourself and had no idea how awful it is. I believe peaches were the fruit of choice for Cait and me. And in the interest of full disclosure, I didn’t dream this up on my own. Mom gave me the tip after I’d spent a week washing cereal out of my hair.”

Noah laughed then. “I feel a whole lot better now.” His expression sobered. “You say this worked for you and Cait?”

Carrie nodded.

“Hmm. She never suggested it, either. I’m thinking my wife deliberately omitted a few helpful tips when she left me in charge.”

“Could be,” Carrie agreed. “She does like to feel superior. Now, go. Change shirts and get to work. I have things under control here. As soon as I have Jackson fed and cleaned up, we’ll head on over to my house so peace should reign here for you and your patients.”

“Thank you,” Noah said, his tone heartfelt. “I mean it, Carrie. I don’t know what we’d do without you. The first couple of months, when Jackson was with Cait in Baltimore so she could breast-feed him, I had no idea of what she must be going through, even with help. I was so sure it would be easier for me here, with family all around. I’m a doctor. I deal with sick kids on a daily basis. They’re not usually in the best mood, but they’re mostly saints compared to my own son.”

“Jackson is a sweet little angel,” she corrected.

Noah smiled. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re smitten. Otherwise I’d be up a creek. Thanks again for pitching in.” His expression turned serious. “I want you to let me know if it gets to be too much for you, if we’re taking advantage.”

“Not to worry. I love having Jackson with me,” she assured her brother-in-law.

“But it doesn’t leave much time for...” His voice trailed off.

“For what?” she asked, forcing a smile. “My busy schedule of watching the grass grow? My nonexistent social life? Pursuing my exciting career path?”

At her undisguised bitter tone, worry immediately spread across his face. “Carrie, are you okay? Seriously? Do you want to talk about any of this? I can make time.”

“Absolutely not. I think one of the things I love most about watching the baby is that he doesn’t ask questions I can’t answer. I have Grandpa Mick doing enough of that. And Mom. Even Cait gets in a shot from time to time.”

“I’m happy to listen, though,” Noah said. “Being an outsider, I might be able to give you a different perspective.”

“Noah, I love you for wanting to help, but we’re talking about the O’Briens. I have so many perspectives about my life, my head is spinning. I’ll figure it out, even if it’s not on their timetable.”

“Of course you will,” he said with confidence. “I’ll be by to get Jackson later.”

“Or I can bring him back,” she offered. “Whichever’s easiest for you. Just let me know.”

As soon as Noah had gone, she sat the baby back down, mixed some applesauce into his cereal and spooned it into his mouth at a steady clip. He gave her a toothless smile that always warmed her heart.

Today, thinking of Susie’s longing to have a child and her own fantasy about a family, that smile made her heart ache. When would it be Susie’s turn? Or hers?

* * *

First thing in the morning, with Bobby up and eager for the promised pancakes, Sam dug out some wrinkled but clean clothes for his nephew, then took him down to the inn’s dining room. To his surprise he found Mack and Susie Franklin in the foyer. Susie’s gaze immediately locked on Bobby and a smile spread across her face.

“You must be the young man I’ve been hearing so much about,” she told Bobby.

Bobby regarded her shyly, then hid behind Sam. Sam knelt down and drew the boy up beside him. “Bobby, this is Mack Franklin. He’s my boss at the newspaper. And this is his wife, Mrs. Franklin.”

“Call me Susie, please,” she said, her gaze never leaving Bobby.

“When I called this morning to see if you’d made it back, Jess told me you got in last night,” Mack said. “Did the trip go okay?”

“It was smooth enough. I should have let you know we’d made it back to town,” Sam apologized.

“Absolutely not. You had a lot to do to get settled, I’m sure,” Mack said. “In fact, Susie insisted on coming over right away to see what she could do to help out.” He gave Sam a reassuring look. “Things must feel pretty overwhelming about now, but you’re not in this alone, okay? I want to make sure you know that. We all want to help.”

“I appreciate that,” Sam said, beginning to see what Carrie had been talking about. Even though he was new to town people were willing to pitch in. He hated that one of them happened to be his boss, a man he respected and wanted to impress. He couldn’t help wondering what Mack thought of the chaos that had suddenly become his life.

“I’m not entirely sure where to start,” Sam admitted candidly, then grinned at Bobby’s impatient tug on his jeans. “Except to get some pancakes into my boy here.”

“Yeah!” Bobby said.

“Well, I can definitely help with that,” Susie said. “I’ll go in the kitchen and speak to the chef myself.”

Bobby regarded her hopefully. “Can I come, too? I want to see where they make the pancakes. When I get big, I want to make them myself.”

“Absolutely,” Susie agreed and held out her hand. She turned to Mack. “Why don’t you grab a table by the window so we can see the water?”

As she and Bobby left, Mack watched them go with a surprisingly worried expression.

“Something wrong?” Sam asked him as they made their way to a table.

Mack shook off whatever was troubling him and forced a smile. “No, nothing for you to worry about. Do you need more time off? Like I told you when you called the other day, I can manage for another week. I might not have the creative-design expertise you have, and I definitely don’t have your tech skills, but I can post stories and pictures.” He regarded Sam with concern. “You must have a list a mile long of things you need to do to adjust to having custody of your nephew.”

“You have no idea,” Sam said. “Thank goodness my sister and brother-in-law had the foresight to have a will. Too many young couples think they’re immortal, according to the lawyer. He says it’s critical to plan ahead when there are children to consider. They even had a small life-insurance policy that will be set aside for Bobby’s education.”

He shook his head. “It’s hard to imagine my sister being quite so organized. Neither one of us thought much beyond our next meal when we were kids.”

“Maybe that’s why,” Mack suggested. “Kids who grew up in a chaotic household often feel the greatest need for a sense of stability. And, in case you’re wondering, I know that from experience.” He gave Sam a rueful look. “Of course, I had to go through a playboy stage and a career crisis before I figured out what I really needed and got my life on track.”

Maybe Sam was more like Mack than he’d realized. He certainly hadn’t changed dramatically from his early days of wanting to seize whatever adventure came along next. Now, though? He needed to figure out how to do the whole stable thing in a hurry for Bobby’s sake.

“Maybe that explains it,” he said, though he was still skeptical. She might have bossed him around like a mature adult, but she’d had her own wild moments before she’d married. “I think it was probably Robert’s doing. Laurel’s husband was a real steady guy. Money in the bank every week for the future, oil changed in the car, tires rotated or replaced right on schedule. It was ironic, really, that it was a faulty tire blowing that caused their car to spin out of control on a busy highway.”

“That just shows that we can’t always plan for every curve life might throw at us,” Mack said. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

Sam nodded, unexpected tears once more threatening. “Me, too,” he said, his voice choked. He sighed heavily, then added, “All I know about the future is that I need to enroll Bobby in school this morning. After that, I don’t have a real plan.”

“School doesn’t start for almost a month,” Mack reminded him. “There’s no rush. Why not wait at least till Monday? If you need to have any paperwork expedited, I’m sure someone in the family will be able to help. Susie’s cousin Connor is a lawyer. And her uncle, Mick O’Brien, can get just about anything done around here with a phone call. Give Bobby a few days to get used to being here, let him get familiar with the town, meet a few kids. Give yourself time to get your feet back under you, too.”

“I just thought maybe if he was enrolled in school and knew there was going to be a familiar routine, he’d feel more settled,” Sam said. “I’m not sure he quite understands that this is his home now. He says all the right words about knowing Mommy and Daddy are in heaven, but I just have this sense he still expects them to find their way back to him.”

“That must kill you,” Mack said, then hesitated. “Look, I may think a break before he has to think about anything except being a kid might be good, but run it by Susie. She’s smarter about this sort of thing than I am. It just seems to me Bobby’s already had to make a lot of big adjustments. A couple of extra days to hang out with you might make him feel more secure. You guys probably need some serious bonding time.”

Sam nodded. “That does make sense. And, like you said, maybe it’ll help me to wrap my head around everything that’s happened, too.”

“What about a place to live?” Mack asked. “I’m sure Jess will give you a break here, if you need to stay on for a while longer.”

“She mentioned that when I got back last night,” Sam responded. “But as convenient and wonderful as the inn is, it’s not a long-term solution. The sooner I can find a permanent place for us, the better it will be.”

“I can help with that,” Susie said, returning just in time to overhear. “I know every property in town that’s available for rent or for sale. Any preference?”

“I’d planned to rent a small apartment, if there is such a thing in Chesapeake Shores, but now...” His voice trailed off and he shrugged. “Bobby needs stability, so maybe a house.”

“I agree,” Susie said enthusiastically. “And I already know the perfect one. It’s not too big and it’s on Willow Brook Road, which is a wonderful street with lots of shade trees and nice yards. There are several children Bobby’s age on the street, and a lot of the kids in our family are over there a lot, too. My cousin’s daughter lives there and she watches them after school from time to time.”

“Carrie?” Sam asked.

A startled look passed across Susie’s face. “How on earth did you know that?”

“I ran into her last night when I was picking up dinner at O’Brien’s. She mentioned she has children in and out all the time.”

“It’s not a formal day care or anything like that,” Susie explained. “Carrie just happens to be really good with children, so all the O’Brien little ones gravitate to her. The adults take terrible advantage of that. I think we all know that sooner or later she’ll decide on a new career and go back to the glamorous life she used to live, but in the meantime, she’s a godsend.”

The mention of Carrie’s previously glamorous life set off alarms for Sam. It only confirmed what he’d guessed the previous night just looking at her in an outfit even he could tell hadn’t come off a rack at a discount store. Hadn’t he already experienced one disastrous relationship that ended because he’d rather spend his money on adventures than clothes? Maybe Carrie Winters, despite her thoughtful offer, wasn’t the best person to bring into Bobby’s life...or his, especially if her future in Chesapeake Shores was as uncertain as Susie had just suggested. Bobby didn’t need to form an attachment to another person who might disappear from his life at any moment.

He hesitated about even considering a house just down the street from Carrie. It seemed like a really bad idea. But looking into Susie’s expectant face, he knew he couldn’t afford to ignore a house with real potential, especially in a town where he already knew real estate came at a premium and was in short supply.

“Sure, let’s take a look,” he said. “I’ll give you a call and we can set it up.”

“You don’t want to look this morning? I have time.”

“Don’t push,” Mack said quietly. “Sam has a lot to do.”

“Anything more important than this?” Susie asked, her voice tight.

With Mack’s steady gaze holding hers, she finally backed down. She reached in her purse and handed Sam a business card. “Call me whenever you’re ready. But houses don’t stay on the market long here,” she cautioned.

Sam nodded, then turned to Bobby, noting that he was making slow but steady progress through a stack of pancakes more suited to Sam’s appetite than a boy’s. “You doing okay, buddy?”

Bobby nodded happily, his mouth full. When he’d swallowed, he took a big gulp of milk and said, “You were right, Sam. These are the best, even better than Mom’s.”

As if he’d suddenly realized what he said, his smile faded. “Is it okay that I like them?” he whispered. “It won’t make Mom mad, will it?”

“No way,” Sam said. “Your mom only wanted the very best for you always, whether it was pancakes or...” He searched his mind for something sufficiently yucky to appeal to Bobby’s sense of the ridiculous. He grinned. “Or escargots.”

Bobby wrinkled his nose. “What’s that?” he asked suspiciously.

“Snails,” Sam told him.

With Susie and Mack fighting smiles, Bobby made a gagging sound. “Mom would never make me eat snails.” He gave Sam a wary look. “You’re not gonna, either, are you?”

“They are considered a delicacy,” Sam told him.

Bobby’s jaw set stubbornly. “I don’t care. I’m not eating them.”

Sam laughed and ruffled his hair. “Okay. Good to know where you draw the line when it comes to food. No snails.”

“No snails,” Bobby repeated fervently. He bounced in his seat. “What are we gonna do today?”

Sam glanced at Mack, then back at his suddenly eager nephew. “I thought I’d play hooky and we could check out the shops on Main Street, maybe spend some time on the beach or swim in the pool. And I think I saw a playground on the town green. Would you like to check that out?”

“All right!” Bobby said with a fist pump that had everyone at the table smiling.

Sam breathed in a sigh of relief. Finally, after days of awkward, disapproving silences and difficult choices that had Bobby shifting from tantrums to outright rebellions, it seemed Sam had gotten something exactly right. Unfortunately, it was mostly thanks to Mack’s instincts and not his own.

* * *

Even after giving Jackson a bath and dressing him in clean clothes after the cereal debacle, Carrie discovered it was still surprisingly pleasant for a morning in early August. Rather than pushing his stroller straight over to her house, she headed for Main Street and then Shore Road.

Her first stop was Grandma Megan’s art gallery, which was currently showing an exhibition of Moira’s local photographs, many of them taken of O’Brien children, as well as other Chesapeake Shores residents. Luke’s wife had become a surprisingly successful photographer thanks to Megan’s contacts in the New York art world. Out of loyalty to Megan, Moira always insisted on a show here in town in late summer. It had the added advantage of giving her a solid stretch of time at home with Luke.

When Grandma Megan spotted Carrie with the baby, she rushed over to hold open the door.

“There’s my precious boy,” she cooed, leaning down to scoop Jackson out of the stroller.

“I’m delighted to see you, too,” Carrie said, amused by her grandmother’s complete lack of interest in anything other than her first great-grandchild.

Megan glanced up at her. “I fussed over you from the day you were born. It’s Jackson’s turn now.” She bounced the baby in her arms. “You’re almost too big for me to hold.”

“I’d suggest you not bounce him quite so energetically,” Carrie cautioned. “He’s just finished his breakfast.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time someone in this family spit up all over one of us,” Megan said dismissively.

“Didn’t you buy that scarf in Paris when you and Grandpa Mick went there for your second honeymoon?” Carrie asked. “Isn’t it your favorite?”

Her grandmother glanced down and shrugged. “I’ll just make your grandfather take me back to buy another one.”

“And he’d do it without batting an eye, wouldn’t he?” Carrie said, envying them the devotion they’d found together the second time around.

Apparently something in her voice alerted Megan that Carrie was in an odd mood. She returned Jackson to his stroller with a little pat, then turned to Carrie, giving her the full attention she’d apparently concluded was required. “Would you care for some tea? It’s Irish Breakfast tea, Nell’s favorite.”

“We should be going. You’re probably busy.”

“I’m never too busy for a visit with you. Sit. I’ll get the tea.”

When she came back, Carrie was pushing the stroller back and forth and watching Jackson fight sleep.

“Here’s your tea,” Megan said, handing her the delicate, old-fashioned chintz-patterned teacup. “Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I’m at loose ends,” Carrie admitted.

“No news there,” her grandmother agreed. “Any thoughts about what you intend to do about it?” She gave her a sly look. “Other than avoiding advice from your grandfather, that is?”

Carrie grinned. “How’d you guess?”

“The way you took off from the pub as if you didn’t hear him calling after you last night,” Megan said. “And the fact that you’re in here right now, rather than in your own house where you could put the baby down for his nap.”

“You know how Grandpa Mick is,” Carrie said.

“I most certainly do,” Megan replied. “That said, not all of his ideas should be dismissed so readily.”

“But I need to find my own ideas,” Carrie argued. “Isn’t that the whole point of growing up, to figure out what we’re meant to do? You didn’t exactly have a handle on it, did you? You were how old and had five kids at home, when you decided it wasn’t enough, divorced Grandpa Mick, moved to New York and discovered how much you loved art and working in a gallery?”

“Touché,” her grandmother said. “But there was a little more to the divorce than my running off to find myself.”

“I know that. It was because Grandpa Mick was a workaholic and you felt like he’d abandoned you to be a single mom, stuck at home with five kids.”

Megan smiled at what even Carrie knew to be a simplistic version of a very difficult time in her grandparents’ marriage.

“That does sum it up,” Megan acknowledged. “Or at least the heart of what happened. Here’s the difference between you and me. I didn’t know just how unhappy I was for a very long time, and I hurt a lot of people when I took off, including your mother and your aunts and uncles. I’ve spent a lot of time making amends for that. You have the advantage of being on your own. Now’s the perfect time for you to get serious about finding your dream. To make your mistakes when the only person likely to be hurt is you.”

Carrie met her sympathetic gaze. “You’re talking about Marc.”

“Not exactly. I’m talking about what you did to yourself. You worked yourself into exhaustion to impress a man who didn’t appreciate it,” Megan corrected. “The good news is that you had sense enough to leave before you were trapped by a marriage that was doomed.”

Carrie rolled her eyes. “Trust me, marriage was never on the table, except maybe in my fantasy. Marc had an entirely different agenda. He was a selfish, manipulative man who took advantage of the feelings he knew I had for him. I can see that now.”

“Good for you! You won’t make a similar mistake again, will you?”

“I sure hope not.”

Her grandmother studied her worriedly. “You’re not going to let that one mistake keep you from taking risks or opening your heart again, are you? Because that would be a real tragedy. You have so much potential, Carrie, so much love to give.”

“But I need a purpose,” Carrie told her. “Grandpa Mick has been harping on that ever since I left Europe.”

“And he’s right. Everyone needs a purpose, a passion that makes them want to get up in the morning.”

“So you think I’m wasting time, too?”

“No, I think you’re taking your time trying to avoid another mistake. That’s not you. You’re my impulsive, embrace-everything granddaughter, but suddenly you’re scared. I think that’s what I hate most about Marc Reynolds. He robbed you of that wonderful, spontaneous spirit that made you special. If I may offer one piece of advice, it’s this. Start taking chances again, Carrie. If something feels right, try it. If someone feels right, open your heart.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Carrie acknowledged. “Maybe I have been playing it safe.”

She gave her grandmother a plaintive look. “Or maybe I simply have no idea where to go from here.”

Her grandmother wrapped her in a tight embrace. “You’ll know it when it comes along. In the meantime, I’ll try to get your grandfather to give you some space.”

Carrie laughed. “Thanks for the offer, but we both know that’s a losing fight. I’ll just tune him out.”

She tried to imagine how well that would work and couldn’t. “I’d better get Jackson home. He’ll be awake again any minute and he tends to wake up cranky. We don’t want him scaring off your customers.”

“Wednesdays are usually slow. I’m not worried. I’m glad you came by, sweetheart.”

“Me, too. Love you.”

Surprisingly, though there had been no sudden bursts of inspiration during their conversation, Carrie felt at peace when she left. That lasted two whole blocks until she spotted Sam Winslow sitting on a bench by the playground, and his nephew heading straight for the top rungs of the jungle gym.

Carrie’s breath caught in her throat as she pushed the stroller as fast as she could in their direction. She didn’t dare call out for fear the boy would take a misstep and tumble straight to the ground.

With her eyes glued to the boy, she made it to the base of the jungle gym and stood there watching his every move, ready to catch him if he fell.

She sensed Sam’s approach, but never looked away.

“What were you thinking?” she said in a quiet voice. “Did you have any idea what he was doing?”

“Of course I did,” Sam said defensively, his welcoming smile immediately fading. “I’m not completely incompetent. Bobby’s been climbing jungle gyms since he was four. He’s a little daredevil.”

He leveled a look at her. “Don’t believe me?” He whipped out his cell phone and showed her a picture of a triumphant little boy atop another jungle gym with a woman who was clearly his mom standing watch just below, a tremulous smile on her lips.

“Your sister?” Carrie asked.

Sam nodded.

“She looks terrified.”

“But she let him do it,” Sam pointed out.

“The difference is she was standing right below in case he fell.”

“And I was sitting a few feet away. I may have looked distracted to you, but trust me, I saw his every move. And you saw firsthand how quickly I got over here when you turned up.”

“I suppose.”

“Carrie, I may be new at this, but I’m not going to let anything happen to Bobby. My sister trusted me to get it right, and I will.”

She looked into his eyes then and heard the sincerity behind his words. “Then I should relax and leave you to it.”

“Or you could go to the café with us. I promised Bobby a milk shake and a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch.”

She was a little too tempted by the invitation. “I should probably get Jackson home.”

Sam looked at the sleeping baby and smiled. “Is this your nephew?”

“The one and only Jackson McIlroy,” she confirmed. “His dad’s the doctor in town. With an adventurous kid in your life, you’ll want to get to know him.”

“Absolutely,” Sam said. “Now, about lunch. How about it? You can grumble that nothing I’m feeding Bobby is healthy.”

Carrie laughed and thought about what her grandmother had just advised, opening her heart to new experiences, even if she wasn’t quite ready for a new man.

“Well, when you put it that way, it should be fun,” she said. “Maybe I’ll even let you hold the baby, if he wakes up crying. That could be even more entertaining.”

“Hey, I’m barely holding my head above water as it is. One kid at a time, okay?”

“Okay,” she relented. “I’ll go save a table. It’s going to be hopping in there soon.”

Even as she walked away, she heard him trying to persuade Bobby to climb down. The boy promptly refused.

“Don’t make me come up there after you,” Sam warned.

As much as she wanted to turn around and watch the test of wills play out, she kept going to Sally’s. Lunch promised to be one of those interesting adventures that had been in short supply recently.

5

“Twice in one day?” Sally commented when Carrie walked into the café. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“I’m meeting a friend. At least I am if he can get his nephew to leave the playground.”

“Ah, you must be talking about Sam,” Sally said, proving how efficient the Chesapeake Shores grapevine could be. “I heard about what happened, that out of the blue, he’s got his nephew to raise.” She shook her head. “Poor little thing. He must be feeling so lost without his mom and dad. And Sam must be feeling completely out of his depth. Your uncle Kevin would know what that was like.”

Carrie immediately sat up a little straighter. “Why didn’t I think of that? Uncle Kevin suddenly found himself a single dad when Georgia was killed. The whole family pitched in with Davey until Kevin got his feet back under him. I should arrange for Sam to meet him.”

Sally gave her a long look. “How did this become your problem?”

“I told you. Sam’s a friend.”

“I thought he was new to town.”

“Okay, we just met, but he obviously needs help. Kevin can give him some encouragement, tell him he won’t feel as if he’s floundering for long,” Carrie said, warming to the idea. “Look at Kevin’s life now. He’s married to Shanna. They have Davey, and an adopted son, Henry, and two kids of their own.”

“You planning to step in and be this man’s Shanna?” Sally asked, a spark of devilment in her eyes.

Carrie’s jaw dropped at the question. “No, of course not. I’m just being neighborly.”

Sally looked doubtful. “Keep telling yourself that. You want your usual to drink—an iced tea?”

Carrie shook her head, determined not to be so predictable. Maybe it was silly, but she viewed it as a first step toward getting more spontaneity back into her life just as Grandma Megan had advised. She’d been right. Playing it safe wasn’t Carrie’s way.

“I think I’ll go crazy and have another cup of coffee,” she announced with a greater sense of triumph than the decision deserved.

Sally nodded and went to greet a group of tourists who’d just taken over two tables in the middle of the room, using half the chairs for all their packages. Clearly their visit had been good for the Chesapeake Shores economy.

Just then Sam came in the door, a firm hand on his nephew’s shoulder. The boy wore a mutinous expression as Sam guided him to the booth where Carrie was waiting.

“Carrie, this is Bobby. Bobby, Carrie is the nice lady who helped me decide on that delicious Irish stew we had for dinner last night.”

Ignoring both her and his uncle, Bobby crawled across the seat and settled in a corner of the booth, arms folded across his chest, his gaze downcast.

“Sorry,” Sam mouthed.

Carrie debated her strategy, then opted to be direct, acting as if Bobby weren’t so determined to punish Sam and pretend she didn’t exist.

“I saw you climb that jungle gym on the playground just now,” she said, her tone cheerful.

Bobby gave her a surprised look, but remained stubbornly silent.

Carrie was undaunted. “You were really high. You must be very brave. How old are you?”

She saw Sam start to answer for him, and shook her head. He sat back and waited.

“I think I was about your age when my twin sister and I climbed up on the railing on the porch at my grandfather’s house and tried to walk it like a tightrope,” she continued as if he’d responded. “It was pretty scary, but fun, too. At least till our mom caught us.”

Bobby finally met her gaze, a faint interest sparking in his eyes. “Was it very high?”

“Not as high as the jungle gym, but pretty high.”

“I like to climb stuff,” he said. “And I never get scared.”

“That’s great, but it’s important to understand that some things have risks. You don’t want to do anything that might be dangerous. A broken arm or leg wouldn’t be much fun.”

Bobby shrugged. “My friend Pete had a cast on his arm. He said it itched. And there were lots of things he couldn’t do for a long time.”

“Something to remember,” Carrie suggested. “I heard you might want a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. That’s my favorite, too. Sally’s are the best.”

Curiosity finally overcame his bad mood. “Is that the lady who owns this place?”

Carrie nodded. “And here’s another tip. If you’re nice to her, she sometimes has cookies still warm from the oven for her best-behaved customers.”

Bobby’s eyes widened. “Chocolate chip, like we had last night?”

“Even better,” Carrie said, praying Nell would forgive her if she ever heard about that traitorous claim.

“I think you’ve said the magic words,” Sam said. “Bobby and I are both suckers for warm chocolate-chip cookies.”

“I can eat lots and lots of them,” Bobby agreed.

“But only after lunch,” Sam reminded him just as Sally arrived to take their orders for two grilled cheese sandwiches, a burger for Sam and an order of fries for the table.

Clearly more at ease now, Bobby glanced across the table and studied Jackson in his carrier. “Is that your baby?”

“No, Jackson is my nephew. He stays with me sometimes.”

“Like I’m staying with Sam?”

“Not exactly,” Carrie said. “He goes home to his dad at night. His dad’s a doctor here in town and his mom is in school in Baltimore.”

Bobby looked puzzled. “If she’s a mom, isn’t she too old for school?”

Carrie smiled. “This is a special school for people learning to be doctors.”

“Is she gonna give shots?”

“I imagine so.”

He gave an exaggerated shudder. “I don’t like shots.”

“Most people don’t,” Carrie agreed. “But I happen to know that Jackson’s dad gives shots that you barely even notice.”

“Did he give one to you?”

“More than one. I was going on a trip and needed several before I went.”

Bobby shook his head. “I’d have stayed home.”

“And missed out on a big adventure?” Carrie said. “I thought it was worth it.”

“Where did you go?” Sam asked.

“Africa. My grandfather has taken on the task of designing and building medical facilities for several small villages, something that’s increasingly critical with all of the outbreaks of Ebola that have been occurring in that part of the world. I went with him and my grandmother to talk to the people and see what they needed. While he did his thing, we worked with the women in the villages to help with their English and teach them some preventative care for their babies.”

“That’s impressive. Are you involved in his work on a regular basis?”

“Not really. Helping in underserved villages is my sister’s passion. It’s the reason she’s studying to be a doctor. And the trip was my grandfather’s way of trying to motivate me to get on with my life.”

“What do you do now, aside from taking care of your nephew?” Sam asked.

“Not much,” she said candidly. “And that’s the problem.” Relief washed over her when she saw Sally coming with their food. “Here’s our lunch.”

She stole a French fry from the plate the minute it was on the table, avoiding Sam’s curious gaze. She glanced his way again and realized she’d been wrong. It wasn’t curiosity on his face. His expression had actually shut down as if he disapproved of her glib response.

Okay, maybe her life was a bit of a disorganized, unplanned mess at the moment, but who was he to judge? As she focused her attention on her meal, it dawned on her how annoying snap judgments could be. Perhaps that was exactly how Sam had felt earlier today and last night, when she’d been judging him.

Maybe she’d been a little premature in telling Sally they were friends. They were, at best, distrustful acquaintances. With surprising regret, she realized she didn’t see that changing anytime soon.

* * *

Except for Carrie’s ability to coax Bobby out of his stony silence, lunch had pretty much been a disaster, Sam decided as he headed back to the inn with his chattering nephew at his side. He couldn’t exactly ponder what had gone wrong, though, with Bobby asking a million and one questions about the town, the bay and every bird they saw. Sam’s answers were in short supply. Who knew a six-year-old could be so bright and inquisitive?

“Why don’t we look for some books about all that the next time we’re in town?” he suggested at last.

“We could go back now,” Bobby said, gazing up at him hopefully. “I saw a bookstore right next to where we ate.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap?”

“I don’t take naps,” Bobby scoffed. “I’m too big.”

Sam sighed. “Okay, then. Let’s go back.”

This was Sam’s first visit to the bookstore. He was surprised by how extensive the selection appeared to be. It even had a cozy little coffee area.

Bobby immediately gravitated toward the children’s section, where books had been left scattered around and child-size furniture invited kids to sit and look at the books or play with the book-themed toys. Clearly the owner understood a lot about children. It was an atmosphere that invited curiosity and exploration, rather than one that said Hands Off!

A woman emerged from the back and beamed, first at Bobby, then at him. “Hi, I’m Shanna O’Brien,” she said, holding out her hand to Sam. “And you’re the new web designer working with Mack.”

Sam blinked, astounded not only by her perceptiveness, but by her last name. “Excuse me for letting my jaw drop,” he said. “But I’m beginning to think O’Briens are everywhere,”

She laughed. “Pretty much, and with all the babies in the next generation, I don’t see that changing.”

“How did you know who I am?”

“I ran over to Sally’s a half hour ago to pick up a sandwich. I spotted you with Carrie and this little guy. It didn’t take long to put two and two together. We have very good math skills in this town, at least when it comes to that sort of thing.”

“I’d better remember that,” he said, not sure how he felt about so many people, no matter how well-intentioned, knowing his business.

Shanna had gone to kneel down next to Bobby. “So, what kind of books do you like?”

“All kinds,” Bobby said. “My mom read to me every night before bed.” He glanced up at Sam, his expression sad. “Will you do that? I packed some of my favorites, but I like new stories, too.”

“Absolutely,” Sam said readily, grateful to get a handle on something he was capable of doing to make Bobby’s transition to this new life a tiny bit easier. “You pick out whatever books you want and we’ll read them together.”

Looking relieved, Bobby turned back to Shanna. “Do you have books about the bay and the birds around here?”

“I sure do,” she said, pulling several off a shelf. “There are a lot more, but they’re for grown-ups. If you want to know more when you’ve been through these, come back and we’ll see if one of those appeals to you.” She glanced at Sam. “I’m a big believer in encouraging children to read about whatever interests them, even if the books were meant for adults. They might stumble over some of the words, but it keeps them interested.”

Bobby was already engrossed in a picture book about local shore birds, so she turned her attention back to Sam. “I’m trying to convince Thomas O’Brien to start a summer class for the younger kids in town. He already has an active group at the high school, but in my opinion children are never too young to develop a passion for the world right around them. Thomas runs the foundation to preserve the bay, and I’ve told him the best way to assure that the bay goes on being protected is to spark interest at an early age. Do you think Bobby would like to join?”

Sam glanced down at his nephew and smiled. “I think that’s your answer. He’s the one who insisted we come in today and find these books, and we just arrived back in town last night.”

“Thomas and my husband will be thrilled about that enthusiasm. Kevin—and yes, he’s an O’Brien, one of Mick’s sons, in fact—works with Thomas. Between us we have three boys and a girl, ranging in age from a few months to seventeen. We’ll have to have the two of you over for dinner, so Bobby can make some new friends.”

“That would be great,” Sam said, liking this open, generous woman at once.

“Should I invite Carrie, too?” she asked slyly.

He blinked at the obviousness of the question. “Up to you,” he said. “It’s your dinner.”

She gave a nod of satisfaction. “I’ll take that as a yes. Now let me ring up those books, unless you want to look around for some for yourself.”

“I think I’m going to be spending all my spare time reading these with Bobby,” he said. “I’ll find some for myself the next time we come in.”

“Any particular genre?”

“Adventure travel,” he suggested. Books were probably the only way he was going to satisfy his wanderlust for the foreseeable future.

“You’re in luck. I have a great selection. There are a few other people in town who have the time and money to travel, so I try to order the latest books for them.”

“You must get to know your customers really well,” Sam said, impressed.

“It’s the only way for a small, independent bookstore to succeed these days,” she said.

When their purchases were paid for and bagged in two separate bags so Bobby could carry a couple himself, she gave Sam another smile. “I’ll be in touch about dinner. Probably one night next week. I know Tuesday is deadline night at the paper, so I’ll aim for Wednesday or Thursday.”

“Great,” Sam said.

Outside Bobby was practically skipping across the street in excitement. “Can we read when we get back to the inn?”

“Would you rather do that than swim?” Sam asked, surprised.

“Uh-huh,” Bobby said with a nod. “I always liked it when Mommy read to me.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Sam said. He held out his hand. “Hold my hand when we cross the street, buddy.”

Bobby tucked his hand trustingly into Sam’s, then gave him a shy look. “I think maybe being here is going to be okay.”

The softly spoken comment brought the sting of tears to Sam’s eyes. He was glad for the sunglasses that kept those tears from his nephew. “I know it’s going to be okay, Bobby,” he said, his tone more reassuring than it might have been even twenty-four hours earlier. “We’re going to be a team, you and me.”

Bobby grinned. “I like being on a team. Do you think they have T-ball here?”

“I imagine they do.”

“Can I play?”

“If you want to.”

“Will you come to the games like Daddy did?”

“You bet.”

Sam studied the satisfied expression on his nephew’s face and realized turning into a dad wasn’t going to be quite as terrifying as he’d imagined. Bobby was already showing him the way.

* * *

Jackson was down for his afternoon nap, though how he could sleep with Davey and Henry fighting over a video game in the living room was beyond Carrie.

“Hey, you two, a little quieter, please. The baby’s sleeping.”

“Oops,” Henry said, his expression immediately turning serious.

“Shouldn’t you have outgrown this competitive thing with your younger brother by now?” she teased. “You’re only a year away from going to college.”

He grinned. “I’m just warming up for college,” he informed her. “I hear it gets pretty wild and competitive in the dorms and fraternity houses.”

“Whatever happened to the sweet, serious little boy who first came to town to live with Shanna?” Carrie asked, remembering his arrival even though she’d been just a few years older.

“I got turned into an O’Brien,” he said, then gave her a taunting look. “You want to play?”

Davey’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, Carrie, take him down, okay?”

“I’m no good at this game,” she protested innocently. “You both know that.” Still, she sat down and took Davey’s remote. “Don’t be too hard on me, okay, Henry?”

Fifteen minutes later, she’d wiped the floor with the smug teenager, proving he and Davey weren’t the only competitive people in the room. Davey hooted.

Henry’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Have you been practicing behind our backs?”

“It is my game in my house,” she told him. “What did you think, that I’d let you go on trouncing me?”

Henry laughed. “I was hoping. I need somebody around to keep my confidence high. Uncle Connor sure doesn’t let me win and even Davey’s getting to be more than I can handle. I guess I’ll have to start playing with the babies if I want a surefire win.”

“Are there any more of those cookies, Carrie?” Davey asked. “I’d like a couple for the road. We need to get home for dinner.”

She gave him a stern look. “Which is exactly why I’m not giving you more cookies. I don’t want your mom or dad over here yelling at me about spoiling your appetites.”

Just then her phone rang and she spotted Shanna’s name on the caller ID. “Speak of the devil.”

“Is that Mom?” Davey asked.

Carrie nodded.

“Then we’d better move,” Henry said, leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Bye, Carrie. See you.”

“See you,” Davey said, bounding out the door ahead of his big brother.

Carrie sighed and answered the phone. “Your boys are heading home right now.”

“Good to know,” Shanna said. “But that’s not why I called.”

“Oh? What’s up?”

“Are you free for dinner next Wednesday or Thursday?”

“Sure, either one,” Carrie said without bothering to check her calendar. “It’s not as if I have a lot of commitments these days. Anything special going on?”

“Not really. We just haven’t seen enough of you lately,” Shanna said.

The comment was so completely untrue it was laughable. “I saw you this morning,” Carrie reminded her. “And Henry and Davey just left my house. I see all of you at Sunday dinner at Grandpa Mick’s. What’s this really about? And don’t fib. You’re no good at it.”

“I invited Sam Winslow and his nephew for dinner,” Shanna admitted.

“Oh, boy,” Carrie whispered. “If you’re trying to do some matchmaking, quit it. Sam and I have some issues.”

“Not that I could see at lunch today,” Shanna argued. “It was quite the little family scene in Sally’s.”

“You saw us?”

“Of course I did. If it was supposed to be a secret rendezvous, it might have been better to have it someplace more secluded and minus the kids.”

“You are so far off base,” Carrie told her. “There is nothing at all between Sam and me. There’s not likely to be, either. I’m not crazy about some of the decisions he’s been making about Bobby and he doesn’t seem all that crazy about me, period. Let this go, Shanna. I’m glad you invited him over. Earlier today I was thinking he and Kevin might have a lot in common, given how abruptly they both became single dads. Trust me, though. You’ll have a much better time without me there.”

“I already told him I was inviting you.”

That gave Carrie pause. “And he didn’t immediately come up with an excuse to avoid the whole thing?”

“Nope. He looked more like a man who was happy someone was stepping in to push the two of you together again.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

Shanna was surprisingly silent for about a minute. “You know, I take it back,” she said.

Carrie was startled by the sudden turnaround. She didn’t like the disappointment that immediately spread over her. “You’re withdrawing the invitation? You’re canceling dinner?”

“Nope,” Shanna said decisively. “I’m moving it up. It’s tomorrow night. I don’t want you to have a whole week to talk yourself out of coming. Sam, either. Seven o’clock. I’ll call him right now to confirm.”

“But I never said yes.”

“Oh, you’ll be here,” Shanna said confidently. “Don’t you have enough issues with the family without adding coward to the list?”

“That’s not fair,” Carrie grumbled, knowing Shanna had set a very neat trap for her.

“Life is rarely fair,” Shanna said brightly. “But O’Briens always cope. See you tomorrow, sweetie.”

She hung up before Carrie could form another protest or think of a single way to wiggle out of the commitment. Maybe, if she were very, very lucky, Sam would do the wiggling. Sadly, with the way her luck was running lately, it wouldn’t happen that way.

And somewhere, deep down inside, a traitorous spark of anticipation was doing a little jig about that.

6

Sam had been surprised to hear from Shanna so quickly about dinner. In fact, she’d caught him so completely off guard, he hadn’t been able to come up with a single excuse to refuse, even though he wasn’t crazy about her obvious attempt to throw him together with Carrie. He told himself he’d accepted for Bobby’s sake. That was the only thing that gave him any comfort as he approached Shanna and Kevin’s house on a quiet side street not far from downtown.

Though the house appeared small from the street, he discovered on entering that appearances had been deceiving. There had been additions onto the back, including a big sunroom where a baby in pink was bouncing in a child seat, a toddler was climbing all over a teenager as the boy tried to play a video game and yet another boy was laughing hysterically.

“Way to go,” the laughing youngster told the toddler.

“Get him off of me,” the older boy pleaded, still trying to concentrate.

“No way!” the other boy declared. “He’s my secret weapon.”

“I thought Carrie was your secret weapon. You loved it when she busted my chops yesterday.”

Shanna stood in the doorway, shaking her head. “Welcome to my world,” she told Sam. She raised her voice. “Boys! We have company.”

“Henry, Davey and Johnny,” she said as she pointed to each of them. “The baby’s Kelly. Everyone, this is Sam. He’s working with Mack at the paper. And this is his nephew, Bobby.”

Bobby hung back shyly, but surprisingly it was the teenager who came over and held out a hand. “Hey, Bobby, do you like video games?”

Bobby nodded.

“Then you can be on my side. Davey’s enlisted the little monkey over there to try to distract me when it’s my turn. You can do the same when it’s Davey’s turn.”

“You want me to climb on him?” Bobby asked skeptically.

Henry laughed. “Whatever works,” he said. “You’ll think of something.”

Bobby looked hesitantly up at Sam. “Is it okay?”

Before Sam could answer, Shanna stepped in. “Do whatever you need to do,” she told Bobby. “Just no hitting or biting. Those are the house rules.”

She turned to Sam. “We probably don’t want to watch this. Come with me and I’ll get you a glass of wine. Kevin should be here soon and Carrie’s on her way. She’s stopping to pick up dessert. Nell baked today. Honestly, I don’t know how Nell does it. Once a week there’s Kevin’s favorite apple pie, a coconut cake for Connor and his family, chocolate cake for Abby and Trace, scones for anybody who wants them. She must have been a baker in her previous life. She’d do all the pastry for the inn, if Jess would let her. Now that she’s in her eighties, we all think she should slow down, but she’s having none of it. Have you met her yet?”

Sam shook his head. “But I have had a few of her chocolate-chip cookies,” Sam said. “Carrie gave me some when I stopped by O’Briens the other night.”

Shanna’s eyes lit up. “Did you try the stew? That’s Nell’s recipe, too. In fact, most of the food in the pub is based on traditional recipes she learned when she stayed with her grandparents in Ireland years ago.”

“So Luke inherited her skill in the kitchen?”

Shanna laughed. “Absolutely not. She despaired of teaching him a thing. He brought in a chef and Nell trained him. She still looks over his shoulder regularly to be sure he’s not messing up. Nothing goes on the menu unless it has her stamp of approval. For a guy who learned to cook in a New York deli, he’s adapted quite well to Nell’s Irish favorites. Every now and then he sneaks a Reuben or a pastrami sandwich onto the menu as a special, and Nell pretends not to notice.”

Just then Carrie’s voice carried down the hallway to the big open kitchen. Sam felt an immediate and troubling spark of anticipation. Apparently he could tell himself a thousand times that getting involved with her was a bad idea, but his testosterone wasn’t convinced.

“Anybody here?” she called out.

“In the kitchen,” Shanna replied as she poured two glasses of wine. She handed one to Sam, then held out the other to Carrie as she set the pie on the counter.

“Gram says to heat this up before you serve it,” Carrie instructed Shanna.

“As if she hasn’t told me that every single week since the day I married Kevin,” Shanna said.

Carrie laughed. “She doesn’t like to leave anything to chance and I’m pretty sure she’s convinced that not a one of us inherited a single bit of her culinary skill.”

“Not true,” Shanna said. “Kevin’s actually quite adept in the kitchen. He’s just never home to cook.”

He walked in just in time to overhear the comment. “I’m here now,” he said, giving her a thorough kiss. “And I always take care of the important things, right? Like this?”

Laughing, Shanna shoved him away when he clearly would have stolen another kiss. “Company, Kevin.”

“It’s just Carrie,” he said.

“And Sam Winslow,” Shanna said, giving him a gentle elbow in the ribs. “Sam, my husband, Kevin O’Brien.”

Sam grinned at Kevin’s suddenly chagrined expression. “I didn’t realize we had company company,” he apologized. “I thought it was just Carrie.”

“Thanks,” Carrie grumbled, feigning an insulted look. “Always a pleasure to see you, too.” She glanced at Sam. “A minute ago I would have told you Kevin was my favorite uncle, but now he’s on probation. I’m thinking Uncle Connor has the edge.”

The teasing interaction was a revelation to Sam, whose own family life, if it could even be called that, had always been filled with tension and long, awkward silences.

There was a sudden whoop of glee from the sunroom.

“Video game?” Kevin asked.

“Always,” Shanna said with a sigh. “Sounds as if maybe Davey actually won this one.”

Kevin glanced toward Sam. “You any good at those games?”

“I’ve played some,” Sam said, though from what he’d observed tonight, he wasn’t nearly as competitive as the males in this family.

“Want to go out there and take them on?” Kevin asked.

“Sure,” Sam said at once, eager to get away from the kitchen and the unwanted attraction that seemed to be simmering between him and Carrie.

“Twenty minutes,” Shanna reminded them sternly. “Once I get dinner on the table, I’m not calling you all twice. And make sure all the boys wash their hands. And don’t forget the baby, the way you did last night.”

Sam bit back a smile as he followed Kevin to the sunroom. “You forgot the baby?”

“Hey, she’d fallen asleep,” Kevin explained in his own defense. “Since she’s almost never quiet for more than a heartbeat, I think I should be forgiven for not realizing she was there.”

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” Sam told him.

Kevin regarded him with a puzzled look. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’ve only had responsibility for my nephew for a couple of weeks and I’ve spent most of that time terrified I was going to do something totally stupid. And as if I didn’t have enough doubts myself, Carrie has caught me twice doing things she apparently considered unforgivable.”

“What things?” Kevin asked.

“I left Bobby sleeping in the car while I ran into O’Briens to pick up takeout. Even though I kept my eye on him the whole time, that wasn’t good enough for her. And the next day she thought I wasn’t watching closely enough while he was climbing on the jungle gym at the playground.”

“When it comes to kids, Carrie’s a natural-born worrier,” Kevin consoled him. “Just like her mom. And just like Abby, Carrie will be a great mom someday. We all trust her to keep an eye on our kids, but we also know she’s overprotective. She’ll get over it once she sees that not even she can be everywhere at once. Kids are adventurous. They do crazy things and sometimes they’re too fast for us to catch ’em before they fall. All we can do is be alert and minimize the risks, then be ready to patch up any bumps and bruises, dry any tears.”

“Voice of experience?” Sam asked.

“As a dad and as a former paramedic,” Kevin confirmed. “There’s a big difference between letting kids be kids and allowing them to take the occasional risk, and being a negligent parent. You’ll figure it out, too.”

Sam was doubtful. “I hope so. By the way, Bobby was asking if there’s T-ball in town.”

“Sure. Show up at the high school field on Saturday. We’ll get him on a team.”

In the sunroom, Kevin muscled Henry away from the controls for the video game, took the other remote from Davey and handed it to Sam. “Let us show you how it’s done, boys.”

“Oh, please,” Henry taunted. “I’ve been beating you since I was a kid.”

“Me, too,” Davey gloated. “Dad, you’re really bad.”

Sam laughed. “Then maybe I have half a chance.”

“Loser takes on Carrie,” Henry said, his expression innocent. “You’ll need a confidence boost.”

Something told Sam he’d better win against Kevin. The last thing he wanted was to be humiliated for his ineptitude yet again by Carrie Winters.

* * *

“Are you convinced now?” Carrie asked Shanna as Kevin and Sam left the kitchen. “He barely even looked at me.”

Shanna waved off the comment. “That meant nothing. If anything, it was more telling than it would have been if he’d fawned all over you.”

“Seriously?” Carrie said, trying to follow her logic.

“Sure. Men act all indifferent when they’re feeling exactly the opposite and don’t want to give anything away.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.