Harbor Lights

by Sherryl Woods

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

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

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

  “Milk?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  She studied him curiously. “Commitment issues?”

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

  “You, too, Kevin.”

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

  2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Met anyone interesting yet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I can’t wait,” Laurie enthused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Bree looked startled. “Kevin was here?”

  Shanna nodded.

  “Was he civil?” she asked worriedly.

  “Of course. Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Maybe,” Kevin said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I was.”

  “Any particular reason?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Who? Shanna?”

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

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

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

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