#1 New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods takes you back to Chesapeake Shores for another heartwarming holiday season

As the only child of a single mom, Jenny Collins wanted nothing more than to be part of a large, rambunctious family like the O’Briens. Ironically, though, when her mother married into that family, Jenny found herself feeling more like an outsider than ever.

Now, after years in Nashville as an established songwriter, Jenny’s drawn back to Chesapeake Shores to collaborate on a Christmas production…and to make peace with the past. As if that’s not challenging enough, Caleb Green, the singer who broke her heart, has followed her to town, determined to win her back.

With the help of a little O’Brien holiday magic, will Jenny and Caleb find a way to make sweet music forever?

A Seaside Christmas

#1 New York Times Bestselling Author

Sherryl Woods

www.mirabooks.co.uk

Dear Friends,

A couple of years ago when I wrote The Summer Garden, I was so sure that would wrap up the Chesapeake Shores series. With other characters and new settings calling to me, I thought I’d given the O’Briens a proper send-off. Thanks to so many emails and letters from you, I’ve been persuaded that I was wrong—so here we are back in Chesapeake Shores. What better place to spend the holidays!

In A Seaside Christmas Jenny Collins is still struggling to accept her mom’s marriage to Thomas O’Brien and the shock that after so many years of being a one-and-only child, she now has a little brother. After staying away from her home, she’s been drawn back to make peace with her family and to heal a broken heart.

You may recall that when Jenny first appeared in Flowers on Main, she’d shown some talent as a songwriter. That talent has now flourished in Nashville, making her one of the hottest writers in country music, but she’s been living her own love-gone-wrong song with one of country’s superstar bad boys.

This story combines so many of my favorite things—Christmas, country music and, of course, the wonderful O’Brien family spirit. I hope you’ll feel right at home for the holidays in Chesapeake Shores. And best wishes for the joy of the season wherever you are!

All best,

Sherryl

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Excerpt

Chapter One

Chesapeake Shores had been frozen in time, Jenny Collins thought as she turned onto Main Street toward the Chesapeake Bay. Not yet decked out for the holidays, the quaint and welcoming storefronts were the same familiar ones she’d known practically since childhood—Flowers on Main, owned by her uncle Jake’s wife, Bree O’Brien, and then Shauna’s bookstore, which had another family connection through the O’Briens, then Sally’s café, Seaside Gifts and, finally, Ethel’s Emporium, which sold everything from penny candy to gaudy beachwear.

Bree’s shop and the bookstore were the newest additions. The others had been around since the town’s founding. Ethel herself was something of an institution, a woman who knew everything and kept very little of it to herself.

It was Bree—as much friend as aunt—who’d lured Jenny back to town after she’d spent several years offering pitiful explanations that no one in her family had believed. First college and then her blossoming career as a songwriter in Nashville had given her more legitimate excuses, but Jenny knew they’d worn thin, too.

The truth was that she’d stayed away because her mom’s marriage to the much older Thomas O’Brien and the birth of Jenny’s half brother had freaked her out. The safe, secure world in which she’d grown up had suddenly changed in a dramatic way. She’d no longer known how to fit in.

At least she recognized that it didn’t say anything good about her that she’d been wildly jealous about not having her mom all to herself anymore. For so long after her dad had left they’d been a dynamic duo, with only her uncle Jake as backup. She’d liked it that way, even when her mom had gotten on her last nerve being overly protective.

Rolling down the car window now, she breathed in the sharp, familiar tang of salt air and sighed. No matter how uncomfortable this visit might turn out to be, it felt amazingly good to be home. She felt settled, as if a part of herself had been restored.

Gazing out at the water, sparkling in the pale sun, she thought of the countless times her mom had talked about how lucky they were to call this town home, how the Chesapeake Bay—Thomas’s passion and life’s work—was such an amazing estuary and such a national treasure. She hadn’t appreciated that then, but on a day like today she did. She could even admit she admired Thomas’s dedication to preserving the bay.

Glancing at the car’s clock, she saw that she was running later than she’d planned. She drove on to Bree’s theater, the real love of her friend’s professional life. She’d promised Bree she’d write a few songs for this year’s Christmas play, a play Bree herself had scripted. The prospect of such a collaboration, of possibly reaching a whole new audience with her songs, had been impossible to resist.

And it had given her the perfect excuse to flee Nashville during the holidays. She’d stuck it out there the year before after her breakup with megastar Caleb Green, mostly to prove to everyone that she was doing just fine, but a second year of loneliness during this special season? She simply couldn’t face it.

Inside the cozy theater, Jenny shrugged out of her coat and headed for the rehearsal hall, which echoed with childish squeals and laughter and the occasional snatches of applause. She walked into the room just as silence fell. A sea of rapt young faces stared at Bree, her dark red hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, curls lit with sparkling highlights escaping around her pale-as-porcelain face. Though she was in her thirties, she looked younger.

“And once again the whole town felt the magic of the season,” Bree concluded with a dramatic flourish.

The children, many of whom Jenny recognized as the newest generation of O’Briens, applauded enthusiastically. A smile split Bree’s face at their exuberance, then widened when she spotted Jenny at the back of the room. She jumped up, leaving two young women in charge of the energetic children, and ran to embrace Jenny. When the women waved, Jenny realized with a sense of shock that they were Bree’s sister Abby’s twin daughters.

“Welcome home!” Bree said, enveloping her in a hug.

“Thanks,” Jenny said. She nodded in the direction of the twins. “Caitlyn and Carrie?”

Bree laughed at her amazement. “Can you believe it? They’re all grown up. Abby’s still reeling about that. As for Trace, I’m afraid their stepfather is having a very difficult time thinking they’re old enough to date, much less be on their own at college. He has this mile-long list of rules for them while they’re home on break from school. They’re convinced he lives in the Dark Ages. I’ve read the list. Abby showed it to me. They could be right.”

Jenny laughed. “I can imagine. Those girls might not be his biologically, but Trace was always as protective as if they were.”

“He’s much worse than their dad, who’s always indulged their every whim to make up for not being around,” Bree said, then winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

Jenny shrugged. “Things with my dad are what they are. I’ve gotten over the fact that he’s not the least bit interested in me or my life. It’s been years since I had so much as a birthday card, much less a call from him.”

“But you have a stepfather who does care,” Bree reminded her pointedly. “My uncle Thomas really wants to be part of your life.”

Jenny held up a warning hand. “Don’t go there, okay?”

Bree sighed. “Just saying. He’s a great guy to have in your corner.”

Jenny deliberately turned away and glanced around. She realized then that she and Bree were the center of attention for some of the children, including her half brother. Sean Michael O’Brien, who’d turned four a few months back, was studying her with a quizzical expression, as if not quite sure who she might be but clearly thinking he ought to know. With his bright red curls and blue eyes, he was unmistakably all O’Brien. The Collins genes had apparently been no match for his Irish heritage.

Jenny forced her gaze back to Bree. “So you’ve been trying the story out on a captive audience?” she teased, determined to lighten the mood and change the uncomfortable subject.

Bree laughed, her expression unapologetic. “There are a lot of young O’Briens. They make a great test group to be sure this story will appeal to all ages. And my sisters and sisters-in-law get free babysitting. With their careers flourishing, time’s at a premium for all of them this time of year. Come and say hello. Emily Rose and Sean are especially excited about seeing you.”

Jenny couldn’t help it. Eager as she was to see Bree and Jake’s daughter, she stiffened at the mention of her own little brother. The reaction shamed her, especially with Bree regarding her with that knowing expression.

“Don’t take all your misguided, conflicted feelings out on Sean,” Bree pleaded quietly. “It’s not fair.”

“I know that,” Jenny acknowledged, flushing under the intense scrutiny. “It’s just that I don’t know how to act around him. I don’t feel like his big sister.”

“Only because you’ve chosen to stay away,” Bree said. “You are a part of this family, Jenny. And he is your little brother. Those are facts. You need to come to terms with them.”

Jenny shook her head, still in denial. “I’m not an O’Brien,” she said, as if that were the only thing that mattered. In many ways, to her it was.

Bree merely smiled. “Try telling my father that. Mick’s been chomping at the bit for a couple of years, threatening to go to Nashville and haul you home himself. He’s not fond of family rifts, especially since he and Mom have mended theirs and gotten back together, and the rest of us have fallen into line to forgive her, too. He expects peace and harmony to reign throughout O’Brien-land.”

Jenny could believe that. Mick O’Brien was a force of nature. He, along with his brother, Thomas, who was now her stepfather, and their other brother, Jeff, had built Chesapeake Shores. Mick tended to think that gave him control over everything that happened not only in the family, but in the entire town.

“What stopped him?” she asked curiously.

“Not what,” Bree said. “Who. Gram, of course. Nell told him and the rest of us that you’d had to face a lot of changes in your life, that you weren’t the first one in this family to need some space, and that you’d come home when it felt right. I’m pretty sure that was a not-very-veiled reference to my mother’s extended absence, which Gram used to make her point with Dad.”

“And yet you decided to prod things along by dangling this offer to write the songs for the Christmas play in front of me,” Jenny said.

Bree flushed. “Yes, well, Gram doesn’t know everything. This seemed like the right opportunity and the right time. Even though you haven’t said as much, I know things have been difficult for you in Nashville since the split with Caleb. The two of you were linked so tightly professionally and personally that it can’t be easy moving on with everyone in the entire country music community watching you.”

Jenny didn’t even try to deny it. Ignoring the stares and speculation had taken a toll. Pretending that she didn’t miss Caleb had been even more difficult. “I was glad for the break, no question about it,” she told Bree.

“And I was tired of showing pictures of you to my daughter and your brother to make sure they’d recognize you,” Bree said. “See what I mean? Perfect timing all around.”

Just then a pint-sized version of Bree, red hair coming free from two braids only one of which still had a ribbon at the end, bounced over and regarded Jenny with a somber expression. She was clutching Sean’s hand, her whole demeanor protective, as if she somehow understood the undercurrents swirling around them.

“You’re Jenny,” Emily Rose announced with certainty.

“I am,” Jenny confirmed.

“That makes us cousins, just like me and Sean.”

Despite her discomfort, Jenny smiled. “That’s exactly right.”

“You’ve been in Nashville writing music,” Emily Rose continued as if well-rehearsed. “I’ve heard your songs on the radio. I can sing some of them.”

“Me, too,” a shy little voice piped up. “Mommy plays them at home all the time. She told me my sister wrote them. Sometimes they make her cry.”

Tears of her own stung Jenny’s eyes at the innocent revelation.

“How come I’ve never seen you before?” Sean asked bluntly.

Jenny knelt down so she could look into his eyes. “You have. You were just too little to remember,” she said, thinking of the day he’d been born, her mom’s labor disrupting an O’Brien family wedding, a double wedding, in fact. She recalled the happiness that had shone in her mother’s eyes and in Thomas’s that day, even as she’d wanted to die of embarrassment. Intellectually she knew her reaction had been childish, but she hadn’t been able to move past it. Some feelings simply didn’t respond to logic.

“But I’ve been big for a long time,” Sean said, his expression puzzled.

“Yes, you have,” Jenny agreed. She took a deep breath and, with Bree watching her closely, added, “Maybe on this trip we’ll get to make up for lost time.”

“Are you going to stay at our house?” he asked. “Your room is next to mine. Mommy said so. I’m not allowed in there. She’s afraid I’ll mess it up. She says it’s just like the one you had when you were my age.”

Startled, she turned a frantic gaze to Bree. That wasn’t what they’d agreed. She still needed distance and time to get used to the changes that had taken place in her family the past few years. Coming to town was just the first step. She wasn’t yet ready for the next one.

Bree put her hand on Sean’s shoulder. “Jenny’s going to stay at my house, but you’ll see her all the time,” she promised.

“Yea!” Emily Rose shouted triumphantly even as Sean’s face fell.

“Sweetie, why don’t you and Sean go and grab one of Grandma Nell’s cookies before they’re all gone,” Bree said. “Jenny and I have some things we need to figure out.”

Jenny watched them walk away, then faced her friend. “I only agreed to come because you invited me to stay with you and Uncle Jake. You’re not changing your mind, are you?”

“Of course not,” Bree said. “I just thought maybe you might want to reconsider. You know your mom is going to be crushed if you don’t come home.”

“That house isn’t my home,” Jenny said stubbornly, thinking instead of the small house in which her mom and Jake were raised and where she, too, had grown up. “I’ve never spent a single night in it.”

“And whose fault is that?” Bree asked reasonably. “It’s the house that Thomas built for your mother and his family. No matter how you might try to deny it and hold yourself aloof, you’re part of that family, Jenny.”

“I’m also a part of your family,” Jenny reminded her. “I’d rather stay with you and Uncle Jake.”

Bree nodded, though she didn’t even try to hide the disappointment in her expression. “Whatever you want. You’re always welcome to stay with us. You know that.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” She smiled. “But if you think I’m being pushy, just wait till you see your uncle. Jake isn’t one bit happy about any of this. He thinks it’s way past time for you and your mom to mend fences.”

“I’m sure he thinks this is all my fault, that I’m being stubborn and immature.”

Bree tried and failed to contain a smile. “Your words, but, yes, he’s made similar comments.”

Suddenly the prospect of staying with her uncle’s family didn’t seem much more enticing than going home. “Maybe I should book a room at the inn,” she said. That, too, belonged to yet another of the O’Briens, but it still seemed more likely to be neutral turf.

“Absolutely not,” Bree said. “I guarantee you wouldn’t even get your bags unpacked before Jake would be over there dragging you back to our place.”

“Can’t you call him off?” she asked Bree plaintively. “I know he listens to you.”

Bree merely laughed. “I might be the O’Brien with meddling in my DNA, but Jake is no slouch. He knows exactly how to get what he wants, and heaven help anyone who gets in his way. Since I actually agree with him about this, I won’t even try.”

“All that shows is that you’re highly susceptible to his charm.”

“Of course I am,” Bree admitted readily. “But stronger women than I have been persuaded to change their minds once Jake starts working on them.”

Jenny merely rolled her eyes. As much as she’d idolized her uncle growing up, she was pretty sure she could hold her own against him.

“Bring it on,” she said.

The truth was she was actually looking forward to a good test of wills. Maybe it would keep her mind off the emotional roller coaster she’d been on from the moment she’d driven into town and experienced the first powerful tug of homesickness she’d felt in years.

* * *

Caleb Green, once a partner in one of the hottest groups in country music and winner of half a dozen CMA Awards and two Grammys, sat in the shadows of a crowded club outside of Nashville. He’d come to listen to a young acquaintance perform in a showcase they both hoped would result in a recording contract. The showcase ritual was a way to get agents and record labels to take a listen to up-and-coming talent.

Though Caleb had hung around for a few of Ricky Nolan’s rehearsals, he’d never before heard the mournful ballad Ricky was performing now to close out the show.

As he listened, Caleb sat up a little straighter. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind who had written the song. Only Jenny Collins could rip out a man’s heart and fill it with regret. Hadn’t she done just that on more than one of his group’s hit songs? Their collaboration had been pure gold. Every song they’d done had shot straight to the top of the charts, crossing over between country and pop to find huge audiences.

Caleb relaxed—or tried to—as the showcase ended and Ricky was surrounded by well-wishers, including a man Caleb recognized as one of country music’s top agents. He’d asked Ken Davis—an agent he knew well, but had never worked with—to stop by as a personal favor to him, but he hadn’t been at all sure he’d had any chits left to call in. A lot of people in Nashville had written him off this past year. The fact that Ken had taken his call had been encouraging. The fact that he’d shown up tonight, persuaded by Caleb’s praise for Ricky’s voice, gave him hope for his own future in the business. Maybe not everyone considered him a pariah. Apparently one person still trusted his judgment, at least when it came to recognizing talent.

Unfortunately, pleased as he was for Ricky, his gut filled with envy just thinking about that heart-tugging song that Ricky had performed. Caleb knew instinctively it was exactly what he needed to get his career back after a whole host of mistakes, including walking away from Jenny and breaking her heart. Unfortunately, he couldn’t imagine a way she’d ever forgive him for their very public breakup. Cheating had been awful enough. Adding humiliation to the mix had been unforgivable.

As soon as things in the club settled down and another performer was onstage, Ricky joined Caleb in the back.

“What did you think?” he asked, all the bravado he’d displayed onstage now gone. He was just a nineteen-year-old kid looking for reassurance from someone he trusted.

Ricky had been only sixteen when Caleb and Jenny had first heard him in a club outside Charlottesville, Virginia. At eighteen and just out of high school, he’d turned up in Nashville, taking Caleb up on his offer to put him in touch with the right people. A year ago, though, Caleb hadn’t even been able to help himself, much less anyone else. Now he was making good on his promise, trying to earn back the reputation he’d once had as a good guy who was always ready to help a new artist.

“You knocked ’em dead,” Caleb told him honestly. “I imagine that’s exactly what Ken Davis told you, too.”

Ricky’s eyes lit up at the mention of the agent. “He wants to talk. We’re meeting tomorrow.”

“That’s great,” Caleb said with total sincerity. “You get him on your team and you’ll go places fast. He has the respect of everyone in this town. He’s honest and he doesn’t take on just anyone. If he’s braggin’ on you to the labels, I guarantee you’ll be under contract in no time. He’ll line up a tour before summer, too.”

Ricky looked a little dazed. “I can’t believe it’s really happening. Everyone back home kept telling me I was crazy, that making it was a long shot at best.”

“You haven’t made it yet,” Caleb cautioned. “But with Ken in your corner, your chances have definitely improved.”

“It’s because of you, Caleb. You got me in here tonight. And I know for a fact you said something to Ken, too. He’d never have shown up otherwise. I owe you.”

Caleb drew in a deep breath. “You don’t owe me a thing. If Ken hadn’t liked what he heard, my getting him here wouldn’t have meant a thing.”

“I owe you,” Ricky repeated.

“There is a favor you could do for me,” Caleb admitted, still weighing whether he had any right to ask.

“Anything. Just name it.”

“That song, the one you sang at the end. Jenny Collins wrote it, didn’t she? I recognize her style.”

Ricky nodded, his expression chagrined. “I know you and she... Well, I know it ended badly, but we ran into each other a while back. She remembered me from that night in Charlottesville. She said my voice was perfect for a song she’d just written. The minute I heard it, I knew I couldn’t turn it down. Songs like that don’t come along every day. Ken said the same thing. He said it was a guaranteed hit.”

That gave Caleb pause. How could he ask for a song that could kick-start this kid’s career in such a big way?

Ricky studied him intently. “You want the song, don’t you?”

Caleb nodded. “I think that song is the one that could put my career back on track, this time as a solo artist, but Jenny gave it to you. Ken thinks you could turn it into a hit. I have no right to ask you to give up that shot. I should leave well enough alone.”

“No way, man. It’s yours,” Ricky said without even a moment’s hesitation. “Like I said, I owe you. There will be other songs for me, but, to be honest, I knew when I heard that one it should have been yours. You’re really the one who could do it justice. Having a newcomer like me do it could be a big risk. It deserves to be played on every radio station across the country. Jenny put a whole world of hurt into that song. Anyone hearing it can tell it’s real personal.”

Caleb sighed, a year’s worth of guilt washing over him. “Yeah, she did. And that pain? It was all my fault—every bit of it.”

“All the more reason for you to be the one performing it,” Ricky said, then asked worriedly, “What’s Jenny going to think about my letting you have the song?”

“Now that is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, isn’t it?” Caleb responded candidly. “Obviously, I’ll have to work out an arrangement with her.” He allowed himself a rueful smile. “And if Jenny hates my guts these days, her agent probably has tar and feathers nearby with my name on them.”

Ricky chuckled. “Yeah, I definitely got that impression when your name came up in the conversation I had with Margo when we made the deal.”

“All I can do is try to make things right,” Caleb said.

Unsaid was that maybe, just maybe, negotiating for the song could open a door for him to patch things up with Jenny, too. Or at least to make amends for the way he’d treated her.

“She’s out of town, you know,” Ricky mentioned casually. “I heard she went to that town in Maryland where she grew up. Word around here is that she needed to take some time off. Rumor has it she’s hooking up with somebody in her family to write some songs for a Christmas play.”

“That must be her uncle’s wife,” Caleb said, surprised. In all the time they’d been together, Jenny had refused to set foot in Chesapeake Shores. Why had she gone back now? He doubted it was simply to write a few lyrics for some rinky-dink local Christmas production, even at the request of Bree O’Brien, a woman he knew Jenny loved and admired.

Only one way to find out, he decided. He sure as heck couldn’t convince Jenny to make a deal for that song he wanted over the phone. This required a face-to-face meeting. He’d just have to pray that she’d been infected by the holiday spirit and wouldn’t slam the door on him.

* * *

Mick stared at his brother. Thomas, usually a pretty optimistic guy, especially since he’d married Connie and had a son, looked as if the weight of the world were resting squarely on his shoulders.

“What do you mean, Jenny’s staying with Bree and Jake?” Mick demanded, indignant on his brother’s behalf.

“Just what I said. And it’s breaking Connie’s heart, I’ll tell you that,” Thomas said, his misery plain. “It’s all my fault. I should have done a better job of winning Jenny over before I married her mother. I knew she felt as if I stole Connie away from her, but that was never my intention. I wanted to have a family with Connie and in my mind that always included Jenny. The last thing I wanted was to drive a wedge between them.”

“You ever tell Jenny that?” Mick asked.

“How was I supposed to do that?” Thomas asked with frustration. “Every single time I tried, she’d give me one excuse or another. Then it was too late. She found out in the worst possible way that we were expecting a baby, right in front of the whole family on that trip to Ireland. It rocked her world. Not only had I displaced her in her mom’s affections, but there was a baby on the way. It shouldn’t have been a competition between her and Sean, but I know that’s how Jenny felt, and she decided she’d come out the loser.”

“You have to admit some of that goes back to that father of hers who abandoned her and Connie. The man should have been shot, if you ask me,” Mick said. “Whatever the issues were between him and Connie, what kind of man leaves town and doesn’t even stay in touch with his own daughter? It’s little wonder the girl has abandonment issues or whatever it is they call that kind of insecurity.”

“You’re right about that,” Thomas said.

“And now you’re paying the price,” Mick concluded. He shook his head. “As understandable as it might be, that hardly seems fair.”

“I don’t think fair has much to do with it. I doubt Jenny would trust anyone who came between her and her mother.”

“Probably not,” Mick conceded. “But she’s an adult now. She needs to suck it up and deal with the situation. I’ve known Connie for a lot of years. You’ve made her happier than I’d ever seen her before, and you know I don’t throw compliments your way lightly.”

“Believe me, I know,” Thomas said wryly. “What the heck am I supposed to do now, though? I can’t go over to Jake and Bree’s and drag Jenny home. It’s a little late for me to throw around my weight as her stepfather.”

“Want me to go over there?” Mick asked eagerly. He’d had far too little to do lately, with almost everyone in the family happily married and settled down.

Thomas fought a smile, but Mick caught it. He couldn’t say he blamed his brother for being amused.

“As generous as that offer is, you don’t have the finesse for this,” Thomas said. “Ma was very clear that I was to leave you out of it. She recommends being patient. She says if you try bossing Jenny around, she’ll only dig in her heels.”

“You talked to Ma and she said that?” Mick said.

Thomas chuckled. “And a lot more about bulls in china shops and lack of diplomacy. Dillon agreed with her.”

Nell O’Brien certainly had clear-eyed vision when it came to her family, Mick thought, much as her assessment might rankle. He put almost as much weight behind Dillon’s opinion. Since Dillon O’Malley and Nell had reunited in Ireland and married less than a year later, they tended to be in lockstep on this kind of thing.

“Okay, I’ll stay out of it for now,” Mick conceded reluctantly. “But you need me, say the word.”

Thomas stood up. “Thanks for listening, Mick. That’s what I really needed. I can’t let Connie see how frustrated I am. Then she goes and blames herself for putting me in the middle. It just complicates an already messy situation.”

“How about this?” Mick said. “You bring Connie and your boy here for Sunday dinner, like always. I’ll see to it that Jenny’s at the table.”

Thomas frowned. “Didn’t you hear a word I just said? No meddling.”

“I believe my instructions were to stay away from Jenny,” Mick said, satisfied that he’d found the perfect loophole. “Doesn’t mean I can’t put a bug in Bree’s ear about getting that girl over here for a family dinner. I’ll speak to Jess, too. We’ll make it a welcome home celebration. It’ll be downright rude of Jenny to refuse the invitation, especially if the gathering is in her honor. I know her mama raised her better than that.”

Thomas’s expression turned thoughtful. “I think you’re bending the spirit of Ma’s edict, but I’m willing to risk it,” he said eventually. “I want to see my wife smiling again. I thought just having Jenny back in town would do it, but not like this. Earlier, I asked Connie if she’d seen Jenny yet. She burst into tears and left the room. There wasn’t a thing I could do to comfort her.”

He sighed. “Just as bad, Sean knows something’s going on, too. He ran into Jenny at Bree’s theater this afternoon and came home with a thousand and one questions about his big sister and why she wasn’t coming to our house. Since I couldn’t answer most of them and Connie wasn’t up to dealing with his curiosity, I dropped him over at Kevin and Shauna’s to play with their kids. I need to get back over there and pick him up.”

“You go, and stop your worrying. We’ll fix this,” Mick said confidently. “It’s Christmas, after all, and don’t the O’Briens specialize in Christmas miracles?”

Chapter Two

It only took a couple of calls for Caleb to confirm what Ricky had told him. Jenny had, indeed, gone to Chesapeake Shores, and was expected to be there through the holidays. The second confirmation had just come from her agent, who wasn’t one bit happy about having inadvertently pointed him toward her whereabouts.

“Do not go anywhere near that town or Jenny,” Margo Welch warned him. “I swear, I’ll advise her to get a restraining order.”

Despite the unlikelihood that Jenny would do such a thing, Caleb was shaken. “On what grounds?” he asked, wondering exactly what Jenny had told people after the breakup. Hadn’t those tabloid pictures of him with another woman told the story clearly enough? Had she felt the need to elaborate? Didn’t it take some pretty serious accusations to justify a restraining order? Just being lower than pond scum in someone’s opinion usually wasn’t enough.

“You broke that girl’s heart,” Margo said, her raspy voice fiercely protective. “I won’t let you get close enough to do it again.”

“That’s really up to Jenny, isn’t it?” he said mildly. “Look, Margo, I know you only have her best interests at heart. You always have. Believe it or not, so do I. I’m not going over there to cause trouble, I swear it.”

She sighed heavily. “But you are going to Chesapeake Shores? There’s nothing I can say to talk you out of it?”

“Nothing,” he confirmed. “And, just so you know, I intend to try my best to talk her into selling me the rights to record that ballad she wrote and sold to Ricky Nolan.”

“There’s a contract, Caleb. If that song is what you’re after, you can forget it. When I write a contract, it’s airtight. You should know that.”

“Believe me, I do. But Ricky and I have already agreed to this. He’ll relinquish his rights. To tell you the truth, he could probably make a deal with me on his own, but I didn’t want to go behind Jenny’s back. I want to do this in a straightforward way, by convincing her I’m the right man to record this song. If you’re honest, Margo, you know that’s true.”

“That song will be a hit no matter who does it,” she contradicted. “I’ve already spoken to Ken Davis. He wants to make it Ricky’s first single. Are you going to strip that boy of the opportunity to go platinum right out of the gate? That just proves every rotten thing I’ve been thinking about you.”

Caleb decided it was best not to remind her how eager she’d once been for him and Jenny to work together. She’d been even more ecstatic when their relationship had become personal. It had provided a publicity gold mine that had benefited Jenny and, by extension, Margo herself, quite nicely.

Instead, he said, “Ricky has the talent to go platinum with any song he chooses. He recognizes that this particular song was meant for me. It’s a done deal, Margo. I just need to work out the details with Jenny.”

“And if she says no?”

“I’m hoping she won’t, but if she does, that’s that,” Caleb said. “I’ll be disappointed, but I won’t pressure her.”

“I’ll advise her against it,” Margo informed him. “Jenny listens to me, Caleb. You know she does. I’ll do whatever I can to prevent her from hooking up with you again, professionally or personally.”

Even though it wasn’t in his own best interests, Caleb actually respected her more for protecting Jenny’s back with such maternal ferocity. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Caleb, please don’t do this,” she requested quietly. “It’s taken Jenny a long time to get over what you did to her. If you ask me, the only reason she’s in Chesapeake Shores right now is to get some distance from Nashville and all her memories of you.”

“Then it’s past time I apologized for the pain I caused her,” he countered. “Maybe that will give her the closure she needs to move on.”

“If that’s all you intended, I might not argue,” Margo said. “But you want more. You want that song and, unless I’m a whole lot worse at reading you than I used to be, you want Jenny back, too. I was there when you staged that full-court press to win her the first time. That’s what you’re planning now, isn’t it?”

He hesitated, then decided now wasn’t the time to add a lie to his sins. “Can’t deny it,” he admitted.

He thought back to the first time he’d laid eyes on Jenny. His manager had brought her over to his place, but he’d been hung over and miserable. While he’d pulled himself together, his manager had sent her onto the patio to wait.

A half hour later, showered and in a more receptive mood, Caleb had found her strumming her guitar, bathed in sunlight. She’d looked ethereal. The music had been just as heavenly, striking an immediate chord in him.

When she hadn’t noticed him, he’d continued listening, falling just a little bit in love with the songs and the woman. It was hard to say which had grabbed him more. The music, more than likely, because his work was his life at that point. His feelings for Jenny had deepened with time.

And then he’d gone and ruined it all.

He sighed, remembering.

“Oh, Caleb,” Margo murmured, real pain in her voice. “If you still love her, can’t you leave her in peace?”

Long after he’d hung up the phone, he thought about Margo’s heartfelt request. The older woman was probably right. The kind thing to do would be to let Jenny go to start over with someone more deserving. And if it was all about a song, perhaps he could do that, but it wasn’t. It was about reclaiming the missing piece of his heart.

* * *

When Jenny left Bree at her theater, she walked along the waterfront trying to get her emotions under control. Leave it to Bree to call her on her behavior in the gentle, chiding way that forced her to see herself more clearly. It hadn’t been an entirely comfortable confrontation.

Not that she could argue with a single thing Bree had said. She’d struggled with herself over those very things for a long time now. Each and every time reason had lost out to emotion.

Chilled after just a few minutes in the icy breeze off the water, she crossed the street, walked briskly back toward Main and went into the café. Her cell phone rang, but a glance showed that the call was from her agent. Right this second, business was the last thing on her mind. She let Margo’s call go to voice mail and settled into a booth.

“Jenny Louise Collins!” Sally said, a smile spreading across her face. “It’s been way too long since we’ve laid eyes on you in this town. Welcome home!”

“Thanks, Sally. This place hasn’t changed a bit.”

Sally glanced around at the worn, but comfortably familiar decor and shook her head. “It could use a good sprucing up, if you ask me, but every time I mention making a few changes, the customers carry on as if they’re afraid I’ll turn it into some highfalutin gourmet restaurant and raise my prices.”

“It’s reassuring to know that it’s just the same,” Jenny admitted. “Any chocolate croissants left? I know it’s late in the day.”

“I must have had some idea you’d be home today. I held one back just in case someone special came in.”

Jenny didn’t believe her for a minute, or at least not that she’d been the someone Sally had been expecting. Still, she was grateful for the sentiment. The prospect of the treat had her mouth watering. “I’ll take it, and a cup of coffee. It’s colder out there than I was expecting. It almost feels like snow in the air.”

“That’s what I was thinking, too, but there’s none in the forecast. Hard to believe we actually had a warm spell just a week ago. It was sixty on Thanksgiving. Didn’t feel much like winter coming on then.”

Jenny smiled, remembering how many times she’d heard similar comments over the years. Once the calendar flipped over to November and all the leaves were on the ground, it seemed everyone in Chesapeake Shores started watching the skies and hoping for snow. Sadly, though, white Christmases were few and far between. That made the ones that did come along that much more magical.

“Let me grab that coffee and croissant for you,” Sally said, hurrying off to fill the order.

She’d just returned when Jess O’Brien came in on a blast of frigid air, shrugged out of her coat and slid into the booth opposite Jenny without waiting for an invitation.

“I heard you were back,” Jess said, reaching across the table to give Jenny’s hand a squeeze. “I stopped by the theater, but Bree said you’d taken off. Since your car was still in the lot, I thought I might find you inside someplace getting warm.”

“I had a sudden craving for one of Sally’s chocolate croissants,” Jenny admitted.

Jess, who was Bree’s younger sister and the owner of the Inn at Eagle Point, regarded the croissant enviously. “Any more?” she asked Sally hopefully.

“No chocolate, but there is one raspberry croissant left.”

“I’ll take it, and a coffee, too,” Jess said eagerly.

“How’d you know I was back?” Jenny asked.

Jess laughed. “It’s Chesapeake Shores and the O’Brien grapevine is a thing of wonder. I doubt you’d crossed the city limits when word started spreading.”

Jenny wasn’t entirely sure she believed her. Oh, she knew gossip spread quickly here, but she also knew how clever O’Briens were about recruiting help with their missions. She suspected her relationship with her family was high on everyone’s to-do list at the moment.

“I spoke to Dad a little while ago,” Jess said, her tone a little too casual. “He’s rallying the troops for a welcome home dinner for you on Sunday at his place.”

Sunday dinners at Mick’s were an O’Brien tradition, one Nell had insisted on. They’d been initiated to get her three sons—Mick, Thomas and Jeff—and their families under one roof in an attempt to mend fences after they’d battled over the development of the town. More recently, they’d simply been occasions for huge, rambunctious gatherings that had always made Jenny feel like an envious outsider on the rare occasions when she’d gone with her mom.

If this one was being held in her honor, Jenny had a hunch it was Mick’s way of trying to bring her face-to-face with her mother and Thomas in a friendly setting.

“You’ve got that look on your face,” Jess said. “Like a deer in the headlights.”

“I’m not ready for a big O’Brien family gathering,” Jenny told her frankly.

“Hey, I get that,” Jess said sympathetically. “Sometimes my family is a little overwhelming even for me. I even had the joy of undergoing an occasional so-called intervention. Those were fun.”

Jenny smiled. She could imagine it, all those O’Briens focused on making some point about the way one of them was behaving. “Heaven save me from that,” she said.

“I’d try, but I know Dad,” Jess said sympathetically. “This is going to happen sooner or later. You might as well get it over with. Just think of it this way. It’s a big house. There are lots of places to hide out and still be on the premises.”

Jenny laughed despite herself. “Voice of experience?”

“You bet. I can give you some tips. In fact, I might hide out with you. Everyone’s bugging Will and me about when we’re going to have a baby. Wouldn’t you think there are enough O’Briens in this town without the whole family being so blasted eager for another one?”

“You and Will don’t want to have kids?” Jenny asked, surprised.

“Sure we do,” Jess said a little too quickly.

Jenny frowned. “That didn’t sound convincing.”

“Okay, Will’s eager. I’m terrified.”

“Why?”

“What if the baby has the same attention deficit disorder I have?”

“It’s not a fatal disease,” Jenny said, not entirely understanding. Though she knew Jess had struggled with her ADD, she seemed in command of her life these days.

“No, but I’ve dealt with it my whole life,” Jess replied. “No question it shaped who I am, and not always for the better.”

“Then you’d be quick to recognize the signs and to get your child any help he or she needs,” Jenny told her. “Plus Will’s a shrink. He’d be able to help, too. Are you sure there’s not some other reason you’re hesitant?” As soon as the question was out of her mouth, she winced. “Sorry. None of my business.”

“No, it’s okay. I made it your business by bringing it up. I guess it’s just on my mind so much lately it popped out.” Jess sighed. “And you’re right. Maybe I am worried about whether I’ve got the skills to be a good mother. Even with all the systems I have in place for myself, I can still be pretty scattered from time to time.”

“You’re forgetting that I’ve seen you with your nieces and nephews,” Jenny said. “You’d be an incredible mother, Jess. I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

“Thanks for saying that.”

“I mean it.”

Jess tore off a piece of croissant and chewed slowly, then closed her eyes. “These are so good. They practically melt in your mouth.”

“It’s all the butter,” Jenny said.

“I’d give anything to have them on the menu at the inn, but Sally won’t part with even a dozen of them. She says they’re her claim to fame, the one thing she learned to make at some expensive cooking class she took in Paris years ago. She says the inn has its own culinary reputation without stealing hers.”

“She has a point.”

“I know, but it’s frustrating just the same.” Jess finished off the last bite of her croissant, then stood up and tugged on her coat. “So, you’ll be there on Sunday, right?”

“Are you assigned to report back to your father?” Jenny asked, amused despite the beginnings of a stress headache starting to throb at the back of her head.

“Something like that. I’m sure others have a similar assignment, but I got to you first,” she said triumphantly. “Yea, me!”

“Has anyone mentioned that the O’Brien competitiveness takes a backseat only to their meddling?”

“On several occasions,” Jess said, then leaned down to give her a hug. “It’s good to have you home, Jenny.”

Jenny noted that she didn’t wait around for Jenny to confirm that she’d be there on Sunday. It was taken for granted. After all, when Mick O’Brien set a plan into motion, it generally worked out exactly the way he intended it to.

* * *

Jenny was beginning to feel as if everyone had a plan for her life. Her uncle had been on her case ever since he’d put Emily Rose to bed and joined her and Bree in the kitchen for a late dinner. At first he’d tried reason. Then he’d cajoled. Now he was resorting to threats.

“You’ll be in my truck at six forty-five tomorrow morning or I’ll drag you out of bed, throw you over my shoulder and haul you out the door myself,” Jake said, his expression as fierce as Jenny had ever seen it, except, perhaps, for that time he’d caught her making out with Dillon Johnson after hours in his office at the nursery he owned on the outskirts of town.

Between the nursery and his landscaping business, Jake was always on the go soon after dawn. His sister—Jenny’s mom—dealt with all the paperwork and scheduling for the company. A couple of years back he’d given her some sort of title and a salary increase because they both understood that it was Connie who had the patience to deal with all the details that Jake hated. He loved the outdoors and the backbreaking landscaping work.

Jenny tried to stare him down. “But, Uncle Jake—”

He cut off the protest. “Your mother doesn’t deserve the cold shoulder you’ve been giving her. Neither does Thomas, but I’ll leave that for another time. You’re coming to work with me in the morning, and you and your mother aren’t walking out of there till you’ve made peace.”

Jenny looked to Bree for backup, but Bree had suddenly become engrossed in loading the dishwasher with their dinner dishes. Sighing heavily, she gave up the fight. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Spoken like the sulky teenager you no longer are,” Jake said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I only want what’s best for you, you know that.”

“This is not about me,” Jenny countered. “You want to keep the peace with Mom. Otherwise, she’ll make your life miserable at work.”

He shrugged. “Okay. That, too. I hate it when she cries or even looks like she’s about to.” He stood up and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Glad to have you home, kiddo. I’ve missed you. I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

“At six forty-five. Got it.”

She watched her uncle head upstairs, then rested her head on her arms. When she looked up, she said, “Coming home was a bad idea.”

Bree joined her at the kitchen table. “No. Coming home was an excellent idea. Deep in your heart, you know that. It’s just hard to see everyone at first. That’s why this Sunday dinner thing Jess told you about will be great. You can see everyone at once, get any awkwardness behind you and then enjoy the holidays.”

“I’m delighted to see that your father got you on board so quickly. Jess, too. I imagine he’ll be sending Nell out to track me down next. There will be a steady stream of O’Briens in my face until I capitulate and say yes.”

Bree merely laughed. “More than likely. He knows as well as anyone that none of us can say no to Nell, you included.”

“I could be the first,” Jenny grumbled, though she knew Bree was right. There was something so warm and wise about Nell, that no one ever refused her requests. If it weren’t for the anticipated additional pressure, Jenny might actually look forward to seeing her. She would have loved to have a grandmother like that.

“Nah,” Bree said confidently. “You’re as susceptible to Nell as the rest of us.” Bree slid Jenny a sly look. “Especially now that she’s technically your grandmother, too.”

Jenny gave her a startled look, then sighed as she considered the connection through Thomas. “I suppose so.”

“Why don’t you look happier about that? I know how much you adore her.”

“Because despite what she said about my needing time to deal with all these changes, I know she probably thinks I’m a terrible, selfish brat for leaving and not coming back,” Jenny said. “She’s bound to think I was trying to punish Mom for marrying Thomas.”

Bree gave her a knowing look. “Weren’t you?”

“I wasn’t, not really,” Jenny said earnestly. “I just felt lost, like an outsider in my safe, secure world. For all those years after my dad left, it was just my mom and me and Uncle Jake.”

“You didn’t blame me when I married Jake,” Bree noted.

Jenny flushed. “Sure, I did,” she said candidly. “But you’d gotten Uncle Jake to lighten up on me and Dillon Johnson, so it balanced out somehow.”

Bree smiled. “Ah, so that’s how I escaped your wrath.”

“Pretty much. I figured you were my one ally back then.” She gave her a resigned look. “Now, not so much.”

“Leave me out of it,” Bree commanded. “Let’s stick to the real issue. Thomas came along and you were no longer the sun in your mother’s universe. Is that how you felt?”

Jenny nodded. “Ridiculous, I know. I was going off to college, for heaven’s sake. I didn’t want her to be all alone. I should have been thrilled that she’d fallen in love. I wasn’t blind. I could see that Thomas adored her, that he wanted to do everything in his power to make her happy. She was glowing when they got married. And then, just when I was coming to terms with that, she got pregnant....”

Jenny shook her head at the memory of the way she’d taken that news, as if it had been a personal betrayal. She’d fled the Christmas celebration at their Dublin hotel the moment she’d heard the announcement. “God, I behaved so badly.”

“Everyone understood you were upset,” Bree consoled her. “You should have found out before the rest of us. They both should have been more considerate of your feelings. I just think they were so excited, it kind of came out.”

“I get that and I had no right to ruin that moment. It just hurt to see how happy they were, as if they’d been given a miracle.”

“They had been,” Bree said, then added gently, “But that made you realize that your mom was a woman, that you alone weren’t enough for her. It must have come as a rude awakening.”

Jenny gaped at her. “You get that?”

“Sweetie, observing human beings and all their frailties is what I do. You can’t write plays that mean anything without that kind of insight.” She grinned. “And I write halfway decent plays.”

“They’re more than halfway decent,” Jenny said with total sincerity.

“You have the same sort of insight,” Bree noted. “It shines through in your songs. How do you think you came up with so many hits? People respond to the sensitivity and truth in your lyrics.”

“I thought it was because I’ve been fortunate enough to have them sung by some of the hottest guys in Nashville.”

“Well, that, too,” Bree said with a grin. Her expression sobered. “I know I’ve said this before, but I’m truly sorry about you and Caleb. I know that breakup hurt.”

“Over and done with,” Jenny said, not even trying to hide her bitterness over that fact. “I haven’t heard from him since he went into rehab for alcohol abuse. If I never hear from him again, it will be too soon.”

“Said exactly like a woman who’s still fighting her feelings,” Bree commented. “Unless I’m mistaken, you two never talked about what happened, about those pictures that were splashed all over the tabloids. He went straight into treatment.”

Jenny thought back to those devastating days. There hadn’t been one single phone call, no attempt to apologize or explain. “We never talked, no.”

“Then you could probably use some closure,” Bree suggested.

Jenny gave her a startled look. “No way,” she insisted. “Caleb is history. I have no idea where he is. I don’t want to know. He trashed his career, right along with our relationship. Forget closure. If I ever take a chance on love again, it won’t be with another bad-boy singer, that’s for sure. Nice, stable and boring. That’s the way to go.”

She reminded herself of that every single night as she lay all alone in the bed she and Caleb had once shared.

If Bree had something to say about her fierce declaration, she wisely kept it to herself. Jenny was in no mood to hear her defend the man who’d chosen a bottle over her.

She stood up abruptly. “If I’m supposed to be up before dawn, I’d better get some sleep.” She gave Bree a hug. “Thanks for taking me in and for being so understanding.”

“Always,” Bree said. “And, sweetie, cut your mom some slack when you see her. She loves you so much.”

Because she knew in her heart it was true, Jenny nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

“You’ll come by the theater after you’ve seen her?” Bree asked. “We can talk about the songs for the play, maybe bounce around a few ideas?”

“Sounds good. I read the script and I’ve made some notes. I even have a few preliminary lyrics jotted down.”

Bree grinned. “I knew you would. I should probably call your agent tomorrow and work out a deal with her.”

Jenny regarded her with dismay. “No deal necessary. I’m doing this for the chance to work with you.”

“Sorry. You’re a professional songwriter now. You write songs, then you get paid. Given the kind of fees you can probably command these days, I might ask for the friends and family discount, though.”

“I’ll send an email to Margo and let her know,” Jenny said. “Come to think of it, she left me a message earlier, but I’m too beat to deal with it tonight. I’m actually surprised she called. I told her when I left that I was officially on vacation, that there was nothing that couldn’t wait till I get back to Nashville after the first of the year. I need a complete mental break from everything. I thought she understood that.”

Bree frowned. “If you told her that and she called anyway, maybe it’s important.”

“There aren’t a lot of emergencies in my line of work,” Jenny told her. “Tomorrow will be soon enough. Whatever it is could probably wait till after New Year’s, for that matter.”

“Your call,” Bree said.

In the guest room, Jenny took her cell phone from her purse and deliberately placed it in a dresser drawer. She piled a few sweaters on top of it for good measure. She’d meant it when she’d told Margo she wanted an uninterrupted break for the next few weeks.

Though she’d worked through the breakup with Caleb and the resulting fallout, enduring the pity and even a fair share of gloating from women who’d once envied her, there was no denying the stress of the past year. Since coming back to Chesapeake Shores was likely to be stressful in its own way, she didn’t need to have it compounded by professional obligations that could be put off.

As she shut the drawer on that part of her life, she smiled. If only it were that easy to lock away the memories. Unfortunately, there was no place to shove those. They were destined to keep on haunting her until she opened her heart to someone new. Right now she was thinking that wouldn’t happen till hell froze over.

Chapter Three

Caleb left Nashville as soon as he could throw some clothes into a suitcase. Since he tended to live in jeans, T-shirts and his leather jacket, packing didn’t take long. He threw his bag and several of his favorite guitars into the back of his 4x4 truck and headed east.

He liked driving at night, partly because there was less traffic, but mostly because it was what he’d gotten used to on tour. The band would finish a concert, party for a couple of hours, then head out on their bus for the next city on the tour. Of course, someone else was paid to drive them then, but he’d never tired of staring out the windows at the passing landscape, the lights of shadowy towns in the distance.

He’d always wondered what it would be like to settle down someplace, put down roots. The closest he’d come had been the couple of years he’d been with Jenny in Nashville, though he suspected if he counted up the nights they’d spent under that roof, it would have been less than half of those he’d spent on the road. And he’d never given up his own place, made the commitment to living with her. In retrospect, he wondered if he hadn’t known from the first that sooner or later he’d mess up what they had together.

Maybe he’d gotten his wandering gene from his father, who’d taken off when he was still in grade school and who was still wandering, as far as Caleb knew. To his everlasting regret, on his rare visits home he still caught his mother gazing out the window sometimes, her expression wistful, as if she thought there would eventually come a day when Noah Green would turn up again.

Caleb knew better. Wanderers never settled in one place for long. If they were anything like him, they had the same problem being faithful. He’d always believed, though, that if it was possible to make a lasting commitment, to live happily-ever-after, Jenny was the woman he’d want by his side.

It was ironic in some ways that their absentee fathers had drawn them together. When they’d first met, they’d spent long hours talking about that. Though Jenny claimed she didn’t care a bit about the man who’d fathered her, he’d known by seeing the hurt in her eyes that it wasn’t true. He’d seen that same pain in the mirror a time or two. He’d been just as clever about denying it, though.

But if the pain had given them a connection, it was music that had brought a shared passion into their lives. Caleb lived to be onstage, to entertain an audience. Jenny lived to create lyrics that people could relate to, to touch a place in their hearts or express a profound sense of joy. Her music could tug at the heartstrings or lift the spirits better than anything he’d ever heard.

At times in rehab, when he’d been struggling to break the hold alcohol had over him, he’d worried that what he’d done to Jenny would somehow silence that amazing creativity. Instead, if the song he’d heard Ricky sing was an example, the heartache he’d inflicted on her had been a source of even deeper inspiration. It was possibly the only good thing to come from his despicable actions.

Reflecting on what a mess he’d made of things was bringing him down, so he flipped on the radio, found a country station and let the music wash over him as he drove from Tennessee to Maryland.

Unfortunately, this habit he had of hitting the road late at night put him into Chesapeake Shores before dawn. Since it was apparent that the town rolled up the sidewalks long before midnight and the nearest motel had been miles back, he was momentarily at a loss.

Then he thought of the Inn at Eagle Point that Jenny had mentioned belonging to someone in her family, or in that big extended family that put a faraway look in her eyes whenever she mentioned them. Using his cell phone, he found the address and directions, then made his way along a winding waterfront road that emerged on a point of land overlooking the Chesapeake Bay. The inn stood before him with welcoming lights beckoning from the downstairs windows.

He hauled his bag and guitar to the front door, only to find it locked. A small, handwritten sign posted under a bell beside the door read Ring for Assistance, so he did exactly that. Again and again, he pressed the button, then watched through the glass panels on either side of the door for some sign of activity.

A harried-looking woman who was surprisingly young eventually padded down the stairs and unlocked the door. She was barefoot, wrapped in a thick robe and clearly annoyed, but beautiful just the same.

“It’s the middle of the night,” she pointed out unnecessarily.

“Exactly why I need a warm bed,” Caleb told her, turning on the smile that he’d been assured could melt the coldest female heart. Women the age of this one—early thirties—were reportedly especially susceptible. This woman, however, seemed to be immune. In fact, her gaze narrowed and she drew the robe even more tightly around her as a breeze swirled around them.

“You’re Caleb Green,” she announced as if he might not be aware of it.

“Guilty.”

“I’ll say,” she muttered.

Her reaction didn’t bode well, he concluded. Of course, anyone in this town who knew Jenny was likely to be on her side. He should have thought of that.

“Look, I’ve driven a long way tonight. I know I’m inconveniencing you by arriving at this hour, but I really would like to book a room, if you have one available.” Since he hadn’t seen a single car parked in the lot, he waited to see if she’d flat-out lie and send him away.

She frowned at him, clearly torn. Apparently, an innate sense of hospitality eventually kicked in. “One night,” she said at last.

“Indefinitely,” he countered.

Her frown deepened. “Why? If you’re here to cause trouble for Jenny, you’re not welcome, not at the inn, not in town.” The warning proved she knew the whole history and had already chosen sides.

Caleb smiled. “I see what Jenny meant about this town getting in her business.”

“We take care of our own. And Jenny’s not just a local. She’s family.”

He recalled the connection he should have made the instant the door opened. “You’re an O’Brien,” he concluded.

“I’m Jess Lincoln now, but, yes, I’m an O’Brien.”

“Which makes you what? Jenny’s cousin?” Not that Jenny had embraced being an O’Brien, as far as he could remember. She’d felt alienated from the whole lot of them, even as she’d longed to be one of them. Though she’d denied it, he’d recognized that yearning in her eyes whenever she talked about them.

“Exactly. Jenny and I are cousins, at least I like to think of us that way.”

He decided to forget charm, which was likely to be wasted, and go for being direct. “Okay, Jess, what’s it going to be? Do I get that room? Do you want to call around and take a family vote, while we both stand out here freezing, or what?”

Though there was no mistaking her reluctance, she stepped aside. “I suppose you might as well come on in, but if I find out later that Jenny wants you gone, you’re history.”

He nodded, accepting where her loyalties would naturally lie. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Jess pulled a key off the rack behind the desk and handed it to him. “We’ll deal with the paperwork tomorrow. I’m going back to bed before my husband comes down here, sees you and tells me what a huge mistake I’m making.”

Caleb chuckled. “A risk taker. I think I like you, Jess O’Brien Lincoln.”

She shook her head. “Save that smile for someone who’ll appreciate it,” she said. “The room’s up the stairs and to the left. We serve breakfast from seven to nine. Miss that, you’re out of luck unless you head into town.”

“Got it.”

As he climbed the stairs he wondered once more about Jenny’s refusal to come back here for so long. Sure, he knew there were all sorts of unresolved family dynamics at work, but he’d gotten the sense from Jess that any distance was all on Jenny, not the O’Briens. Jess, like Margo Welch, was a woman who’d always have Jenny’s back. Multiply that by what he recalled was a very large O’Brien clan and he wondered how much more difficult that was likely to make his mission to mend fences.

* * *

Connie paced the office at the nursery, her gaze going to the clock that seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace this morning. Jake had promised to get Jenny over here one way or another, and her brother always kept his word. But Jenny was no slouch when it came to stubbornness. He might have hit a snag when it came to persuading her to come to work with him.

She finally heard the crunch of tires on gravel outside and glanced out the window. When her daughter emerged from the passenger side of the pickup, Connie’s heart nearly stopped.

Jenny had changed so much, from a college girl to a woman. Some of that, she knew, was simply the natural result of reaching her early twenties. Some, she suspected, came from heartbreak. Though she’d reached out to Jenny when she’d learned of her shattered romance, she’d been rebuffed, turned away with the obvious lie that Jenny was doing just fine, no motherly comfort needed.

This morning there was no mistaking Jenny’s reluctance as she crossed the parking lot. She dragged her feet like a toddler heading for a shot at the doctor’s office. Jake leaned down, murmured something in her ear, then all but shoved her toward the door. Connie flung it open, half-afraid that Jenny would turn tail and leave before they’d said a word to each other.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said, tears stinging her eyes. “Welcome home.” She lifted her arms, then let them drop back to her side, when Jenny remained right where she was.

“Hi, Mom. You look great,” Jenny said, her tone stilted, her gaze directed everywhere but at Connie.

“You look fantastic,” Connie said, hating the awkwardness of the moment. She stepped aside and let Jake by. Jenny followed reluctantly behind him.

“I brought coffee,” Jake said, stepping into the silence that fell. He handed out disposable cups from Sally’s, along with a bag of raspberry and chocolate croissants meant to smooth over any tension in the reunion, then headed right back to the door. “Gotta run. I’m on a job this morning.”

“Hey, wait,” Jenny protested, looking panicky. “How am I supposed to get back into town? Bree and I have a meeting this morning. We have a lot of work to do if this play’s going to be ready for Christmas week. I need to hitch a ride back with you.”

“I don’t think so,” Jake said. “Your mom can take you whenever you’re ready.” He walked out and let the door slam behind him.

Jenny turned to Connie then, and gave her a hesitant smile. “Not exactly subtle, is he?”

Connie grinned at the massive understatement. “He never was. Frankly, right this second, I’m grateful for that.” She studied her daughter’s face. “I can see, though, that you’re not.”

Jenny was silent for so long that Connie thought maybe Jake’s efforts had been wasted. She sighed.

“I can take you to your meeting now, if that’s what you want,” she offered.

Jenny flinched. “It’s okay. I have a little time,” she admitted. “Bree wasn’t even dressed when we left the house. She was still groaning about being up at all.”

Connie smiled. “It’s a wonder she and Jake ever see each other. He’s always been a morning person, and she’s such a night owl.”

“But they make it work,” Jenny said. “I can see how happy they are. And they both dote on Emily Rose.” She smiled. “She’s very precocious. If Uncle Jake thought I was a handful as a teenager, he’s really going to be in for it when Emily Rose hits her teens.”

“We’ve all told him that,” Connie said, laughing. “He swears it won’t be a problem, because he intends to lock her in her room and nail the windows shut for good measure.”

“Which only means she’ll grow up to excel at carpentry or lock picking,” Jenny said, then predicted, “She will get out.”

“No question about it,” Connie agreed. She held her daughter’s gaze. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

At first she thought Jenny wasn’t going to respond, but then she said in a voice barely above a whisper, “I’ve missed you, too.”

This time when Connie opened her arms, Jenny flew into them. After too many years of strained conversations and deafening silences, Connie’s world was finally right again. She wasn’t going to delude herself that everything between them was fixed. It took time to heal old wounds, but this moment with her firstborn back in her arms was a start.

* * *

For an hour as Jenny and her mother drank coffee and ate the croissants her uncle had brought along, it felt a little bit like old times. Jenny told her about her life in Nashville, the people she’d met and worked with, all the while carefully avoiding anything too personal. Caleb’s name never came up. Nor did her mother ask if there was anyone special in her life. It was as if there were an unspoken agreement to keep this first real conversation in such a long time light and superficial. In a way it felt more like catching up with an old acquaintance than the kind of mother-daughter talks she recalled. That saddened her.

Still it went well until her mom brought up Thomas.

“We’re so anxious to have you see the house,” Connie said with undisguised excitement. “Matthew designed it and Mick’s crew built it. There’s a view of the bay from your room. I’ve put all your things in there, but I thought maybe you’d like to redecorate it while you’re here. We could go shopping, pick out paint and curtains, a new bedspread.”

Jenny frowned. “Mom, I’m staying with Bree and Jake. I thought you understood that.”

“I know that was the plan, but I’d hoped maybe, now that we’ve talked, you’d want to come home, at least for a while. Thomas is so anxious to get to know you better. And your little brother is over the moon that you’re back. He thinks it’s very cool having a big sister.”

Jenny shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “Not yet.”

She hated the unmistakable sorrow her response put into her mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I just wouldn’t be comfortable there.”

“Why not?” Connie pressed. “It’s your home.”

Jenny shook her head. “Grandma’s house where I grew up, where you and I lived when it was just the two of us—that was home. I imagine you sold it, though,” she said, unable to keep a note of bitterness out of her voice.

“No, I kept it,” her mother said softly. “Jake’s kept up the yard. Thomas has had Mick come in and make a few repairs and updates. He had it painted.” She held Jenny’s gaze. “He thought, we both did, that you might like to have it someday if you ever came back here to live.”

Jenny’s heart seemed to go still at the enormity of the gesture. “You saved Grandma’s house for me?” she whispered, incredulous. “Even though you knew I might never come back here?”

“I always hoped you would,” her mother said simply. “Maybe not to live, but it’s a great town for vacations.” She shrugged, looking embarrassed. “And Chesapeake Shores is home. At least I hope you’ll always think of it that way. I hope you’ll remember how much you once loved it here.”

“Jake and Bree never said a word,” she said, amazed. “And just now, until I mentioned it, you were pushing for me to stay with you.”

“Bree and Jake knew I wanted it to be a surprise. Plus, I guess I was hoping to maybe have you under my roof for just a little bit before you went off to your own place. If you want the keys now, though, you can have them. I brought them with me this morning.”

“Mom, I honestly don’t know what to say,” Jenny said, filled with a mix of gratitude and dismay that she’d thought her mother didn’t understand how she felt about that old house. She didn’t even want to think about what it meant that Thomas had understood as well. That he had shown such kindness to her, despite how aloof she’d remained, gave her a rare bit of insight into why her mom had fallen for him so hard.

Her mother’s smile was tinged with sorrow. “I take it you want the keys.”

“Absolutely,” she said at once. Not only was that house the only home she remembered, it would provide a refuge as she tried to figure out how to fit in with this new and overwhelming family.

Her mother fished in her purse and came up with a set of keys on a Chesapeake Shores souvenir key ring. She pressed them into Jenny’s hand, then enfolded it in her own. “We’ll transfer the deed into your name while you’re here, if you decide you want to keep it. Connor can take care of the paperwork.”

“Can we go see it now?” Jenny asked, unable to contain her excitement, even though she could see that her reaction was hurting her mom. Connie might have made this magnanimous gesture, but it was clear she’d hoped Jenny wouldn’t want to take advantage of it so quickly. Though she hid her disappointment reasonably well, Jenny could see through her act.

Because she didn’t want to deal with all the undercurrents, she forced a smile. “I rode by yesterday and saw that it looked like it had a new coat of paint. I was glad to see that someone was taking good care of it.”

“Then you can thank Thomas and your uncle for that when you see them.” Connie hesitated. “Will you at least think about coming to dinner at the new house tonight, so you can do that? I’ll make spaghetti or a pot roast, whatever you want, though I think pot roast is probably on the menu at Mick’s for Sunday dinner.”

Jenny desperately wanted to put off her first encounter with her new stepfather until Sunday when they’d at least be surrounded by a crowd of O’Briens, but maybe this would be better. There’d be no watchful gazes, no people ready to jump in to defend Thomas from any cutting remark she might make. Not that she would do such a thing intentionally. They’d both walked on eggshells whenever they were together for her mother’s sake. It would almost have been better if they’d blurted out whatever was on their minds and then dealt with the fallout.

“What time?” she asked her mother eventually.

The smile that spread across her mother’s face was worth any discomfort the evening was likely to bring, Jenny concluded, glad that she’d said yes. Now she just had to make a real effort to open her heart to the man who’d given her mom the bright future she’d never dared to envision.

“How about seven? Thomas is usually home from Annapolis by then. Now that he has Kevin on board, Thomas runs the foundation from home a lot of the time. Today just happened to be one of the days he needed to go into the office for meetings.”

“Has Mick finally accepted the fact that one of his sons is working for Thomas?” Jenny inquired curiously. “I know he hated it when Kevin first said that’s what he wanted to do, rather than working with Mick or doing something else right here in Chesapeake Shores.”

“Oh, Mick blustered for a few months, but he’s admitted more than once that he’s proud of the work both of them are doing to preserve the bay.”

“And he didn’t choke on the words?” Jenny asked incredulously.

“No. Mick’s mellowed now that he’s back with Megan and mostly retired. You’ll see.”

Jenny found it hard to imagine that the hard-driving man she’d known had eased into retirement that readily. “I’ll bet he’s still in his office poking around whenever he can.”

Connie laughed. “Matthew can attest to that. He says his uncle drives them all crazy. He still wants status reports on every development project they have going around the country.”

“His name is on the company,” Jenny said, understanding that sort of pride of ownership. She often found it painful to relinquish control of her songs once she’d sold the rights. One of the great things about collaborating with Caleb had been his willingness to let her hang around through the recording sessions. He’d claimed to appreciate the occasional insights she’d dared to offer about phrasing or holding a note for emphasis.

“Your uncle’s the same way about this place,” Connie acknowledged. “Jake put me in charge of operations and I know he trusts me to get the job done, but he does have his moments when he tries to micromanage every detail.”

“Will you ask him and Bree to come to dinner tonight, too?” she said, needing the reassurance of familiar faces. “I’ll want to thank him for what he’s done to the house.”

“Anything you want,” Connie agreed readily. “If that will make you more comfortable, I’ll see to it they’re there. With Sean and Emily Rose around, the adults may not get a word in edgewise. Maybe that’s for the best for now.”

“Thanks.” She knew it wouldn’t completely quiet her nerves, but it would be comforting.

Connie gave her a knowing look. “It’s going to be okay, sweetie. I promise. We’re family. You’ve known Thomas most of your life.”

But he’d only been her stepfather for a few years, most of them in her absence. That was a huge adjustment to make when she thought about him and one she had yet to fully accept. Clearly, though, the time had come to make a real effort.

* * *

Bree tucked her cell phone back into her pocket and regarded Jenny curiously. “Dinner at your mom’s tonight?”

Jenny nodded. “I couldn’t say no. It would have been like kicking a puppy or something, especially after she told me about renovating our old house and keeping it for me.”

Bree’s eyes lit up. “She finally told you about that? Keeping quiet when you and I have talked these past few weeks has been killing me. Have you seen it?”

“We walked through on the way over here. The renovations are amazing. It’s a lot more than a fresh coat of paint, which was what I’d been expecting. They even put in a whole new kitchen with granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances. And the bathrooms are straight out of a design magazine.”

“Isn’t the whole place amazing?” Bree said. “Dad thought of every detail. There are advantages to having a famous architectural genius in the family.”

“I’ll say. He even managed to expand the master bath and put in a huge walk-in shower, plus a Jacuzzi. When I look at it, it’s hard to remember how tiny the old one used to be. I can hardly wait to climb into that tub with a glass of wine and soak till I shrivel up like a prune.”

“It’s big enough for two,” Bree commented. “Jake and I tested it.”

Jenny laughed. “Of course you did.”

“Well, I needed him to see how essential it was to have one put into our house.”

“The experiment paid off?”

“Oh, yeah,” Bree said, her cheeks turning pink. “Just so you know, we raced home to our own bed. That fancy king-size bed in your place hasn’t been slept in.”

“Good to know,” Jenny replied, amused by their sense of decorum. “Now, can we focus on these lyrics? What do you think of what I’ve written so far?”

“They’re amazing,” Bree said enthusiastically. “They capture the tone of the play and the whole holiday spirit in exactly the right way. I can’t wait for the cast to hear them. The professionals will be here next week. I’ve already been doing readings with the locals since it takes them a little longer to nail down their lines. Think you can have these songs polished up by Monday? That’ll give us three full weeks of rehearsals. We open three days before Christmas and run through New Year’s Eve. No shows on Christmas Eve or Christmas day, though.”

“Even so, that’s a lot of performances,” Jenny said, surprised. “You can fill the theater that many nights?”

“And two Saturday matinees,” Bree confirmed. “We’re virtually sold out. We have a lot more season ticket holders than I ever imagined and the Christmas play always draws from the entire region. People are anxious for a holiday event the whole family can enjoy at a reasonable price.”

“Bree, that’s fantastic! Congratulations!” she said, genuinely thrilled for her.

Bree grinned. “I have to say when Jake and I first talked about my opening a theater here, I wasn’t a believer. I wasn’t convinced it would last a year. Yet here we are in year five. We’ve even gotten some great reviews from critics in Washington and Baltimore, too.”

“Okay, I know you’re not one to rest on your laurels. What’s next?”

“I want to write an original play with Broadway or at least off-Broadway potential,” Bree said at once, then grinned. “When I dream, I dream big.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Jenny said. “And that’s not exactly a new dream. You’ve been working toward it your entire career. You deserve whatever success comes your way.”

“Thanks.” Bree glanced at her watch. “I need to get onstage and start running lines with the cast. You’re okay here in the rehearsal hall?”

“I have my guitar and some paper. That’s all I need,” Jenny confirmed. “Go create magic.”

Bree laughed. “You do the same.”

Jenny thought of all the times when she’d struggled to find the perfect word or the perfect note. And it still thrilled her when she heard one of her songs on the radio. Now that, she thought with a smile on her lips, truly was magic.

Chapter Four

“I always knew you were going to be a big-time son writer,” Dillon Johnson said, stepping into the rehearsal hall just as Jenny set aside her guitar. “That was incredible.”

A smile spread across Jenny’s face at the sight of her first real boyfriend. He was taller now and had filled out his lanky frame. The boy she’d last seen years ago was now a man, and a good-looking one at that.

“Dillon! Where’d you come from?” she said, jumping up to give him a hug. “And look at you, wearing a suit and tie and all grown up. How’d that happen?”

He laughed. “Time passes, at least for most of us mortals. You, however, look exactly the same. Still beautiful.”

Jenny doubted that. It had been hours since she’d run a comb through her hair, and her lipstick no doubt was history. She’d chosen her most comfortable pair of jeans and her warmest sweater this morning, but neither was exactly fashionable.

She had a real superstitious streak about that sweater, though. She’d worn it when she’d written her first big hit, scribbling lyrics onto scraps of paper late into a cold, snowy night in Nashville. For every song thereafter, she’d made it a point to pull on the same sweater when she’d first started writing down ideas and words. This morning she’d wanted to bring that same luck to everything she wrote for Bree’s holiday production.

“Liar,” she teased. “But thank you for the compliment just the same. What brings you by?”

“Ethel mentioned that you were in town—”

“Of course she did,” Jenny said, surprised there hadn’t been a banner announcing her arrival on Main Street.

“She does like to be the bearer of good tidings,” Dillon said. “Anyway, I had a few minutes between appointments. You probably heard I’m working with my dad now in his insurance business.”

“I did hear that,” Jenny confirmed. “I have to say I was surprised.”

His expression turned sheepish. “You mean because I always swore I’d rather die than sell insurance?”

“You were pretty emphatic about it,” she recalled.

“When I got out of school, there weren’t a lot of jobs around. I needed to work.”

“That’s right. You’re married and the father of a little girl,” Jenny said. Bree had hesitantly passed on that information, clearly uncertain how Jenny would feel about the news. She’d had a momentary twinge of regret, but that was all.

“Mostly true,” he said, a shadow passing over his face. “Deanna moved out and filed for divorce a few months ago. She said she was tired of competing with my past.”

Jenny frowned at that. “Meaning?”

“You, of course. She said she could tell that every time one of your songs came on the radio, I started thinking about what might have been. It probably didn’t help that they were all downloaded onto my iPod, too.”

Shocked, Jenny sat back down, picked up her guitar and held it protectively in front of her, her fingers idly strumming as she bought time to consider what he’d said.

“But, Dillon, surely that wasn’t true,” she responded eventually, hoping his wife had been wrong. “You and I called it quits when we left for college. That was a long time ago. We hadn’t even been in touch.”

“I told her that.” He shrugged. “She didn’t believe it, especially after we moved to town and everyone she met mentioned our history. I don’t think they did it to be cruel. It’s just that people in Chesapeake Shores have long memories, and you’ve become a celebrity in the music world. Everyone in town is so proud of knowing you.”

Jenny shied away from the description. “A celebrity? Hardly. Most people have no idea who wrote the songs. The focus is on the artist who performs them.”

“Unless the writer is romantically involved with the performer, I imagine,” he suggested quietly.

Jenny sighed. He was right about that. Because of her relationship with Caleb, she’d been in the public eye more than most songwriters who weren’t performers themselves. “I’m really sorry.”

“Not your fault. And, to be honest, maybe Deanna was right. Maybe you never entirely get over your first love.”

Jenny had. She’d moved on with Caleb and, in the rare moments when she allowed herself to be completely truthful, she knew that was the relationship that still lingered in her heart. Bree had been right about that. She was determined, though, not to listen to that traitorous bit of nostalgia. She’d left Caleb in the past. He needed to stay there.

“What about your little girl, though?” she asked, thinking of her own parents’ divorce, her father’s disappearance from their lives and the scars that had left. “Don’t you owe it to her to try harder?”

Dillon seemed taken aback that she would expect that. “Lori’s okay,” he insisted, his tone defensive. “She’s only two. She knows she has two homes, one with Mommy and another one with Daddy. They’re not far away. They’re living in Annapolis.”

Jenny started to argue, then waved off what she’d been about to say. “Never mind. It’s not my place.”

Dillon sat down beside her, then nudged her with an elbow. “That never stopped you before. Say what’s on your mind.”

“Just that I remember what it was like when my dad left. I’m not sure I ever got over it.”

He frowned at that. “That was completely different. He moved to another state. You never saw him. You barely even heard from him. And then you found out he’d never wanted kids in the first place.”

“That was a kick in the pants, all right,” Jenny acknowledged. “From then on I figured it was all my fault that he’d left, that if my mom had never gotten pregnant with me, they’d have stayed married.”

“You knew better, though,” Dillon reminded her. “Your mom wouldn’t have traded having you for anything, not even keeping your dad around. I heard her say so myself.”

“Sure, that’s what she always said. Still, it’s hard not to wonder. She must have been in love with him at the beginning.”

“I’m sure she was, but didn’t she tell you that they’d fought over having children, that he knew how important it was to her but refused to even consider it? Despite how he felt, she never even gave a moment’s thought to having you when she found out she’d gotten pregnant. There were choices she could have made.” He met her gaze. “Personally I think it’s one of those things people take for granted when they’re dating, assuming they’re on the same page about everything. When they discover otherwise, it changes how they feel.”

“I suppose,” Jenny conceded.

“Well, in my case, I’m right here. Lori will never have to wonder the way you have. She’ll always know how much I wanted her and love her.”

“Maybe it is different,” Jenny agreed. “Maybe I just feel a little guilty.”

“What on earth do you have to feel guilty about?”

“I don’t like thinking I might have had even a tiny part in your breakup with Lori’s mom.”

Dillon shook his head. “Deanna and I shouldn’t have been together in the first place. I knew better, but from the minute you and I split up, I was a little bit lost. I know we agreed it was for the best, that we were way too young to be serious, that it was crazy to try to maintain a relationship when we were at different schools, that we should be open to new people.” He gave her a rueful look. “Turned out I wasn’t all that eager for new experiences.”

Jenny regarded him with regret. “I’m sorry.”

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