Willow Brook Road

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.”