My Dearest Cal (25 page)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How? I never heard the story.”

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

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

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

“I hope so,” Carrie said softly.

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

“And Moira,” she said, smiling.

“And Moira,” he agreed.

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t work here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s your car?”

Sam nodded, a flush crawling up his face.

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

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

“Why is this your business?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Copyright © 2015 by Sherryl Woods

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

After writing more than seventy-five romances and mysteries in the last twenty years
Sherryl Woods
has days when she wonders if she has anything left to say. But then a new character sneaks into her subconscious and starts telling her secrets. When she’s not hearing the voices of her heroes and heroines, you can find her gardening or sitting on the front porch of her riverfront summer home in Virginia or on the balcony of her oceanfront condo in Florida with a book in her hand. And because she loves to talk to real people once in a while, she also operates her own bookstore, Potomac Sunrise, in Colonial Beach, Virginia, where readers from around the country stop by to discuss her favorite topic—books. If you can’t visit Sherryl at her store, then be sure to drop her a note at P.O. Box 490326, Key Biscayne, FL 33149.