Harbor Lights

by Sherryl Woods

  “Well, she is attractive,” Bree said. “Single, too. At least she wasn’t wearing any kind of a ring, and she never mentioned anything about a husband.”

  “Do most people you know spill their entire life story the second you meet them?”

  “Of course not. I’m just passing along what I observed.”

  Kevin scowled at his sister. “I hope you’re not planning to indulge in some unsolicited matchmaking,” he said in a tone he hoped would quell any ideas she had along that line.

  “No one in this family approves of meddling,” she said piously.

  “That doesn’t seem to stop ’em from engaging in it,” he retorted sourly. “Before you go getting any ideas, keep in mind that I’m so far from wanting a woman in my life, I might as well be living in a monastery.”

  “Which is a waste, if you ask me.”

  “I didn’t ask, did I?”

  “Come on, Kevin,” she coaxed. “Live a little. You don’t have to marry the woman. You don’t even have to date her. Just have coffee with her, help her out getting the store organized, something that will bring a little human contact back into your life.”

  “With you, Jess, Abby, Gram and Dad on my case, I have about as much human contact these days as I can handle,” he grumbled.

  “We don’t count. You need to interact with the outside world.”

  “Leave it alone, Bree. Leave me alone.”

  He stood up, then reached down to scoop Davy off his feet. “Bath time, kiddo.”

  “No! More flies,” Davy protested, clinging tightly to his jar with both hands.

  “Two’s enough,” Kevin told him. “That’s quite a catch. Thank your Aunt Bree and tell her good night.”

  Davy dutifully smiled at his aunt. “Bye, Bwee.”

  “Good night, lovebug.” She grinned at Kevin. “Night, pain.”

  He laughed. “Ditto.”

  She fell into step beside him as he crossed the lawn. “Shanna says her shelves are being delivered first thing in the morning,” she said casually.

  “So?”

  She stood tall and gave him a peck on his cheek. “Just thought you might want to know.”

  He let that pass. And tomorrow, if he had a grain of sense in his head, he’d find some excuse to be anywhere other than Main Street. Not only did he not want to get sucked into Shanna’s life, but he also didn’t want to give his sister even an iota of encouragement for this undisguised matchmaking scheme of hers.

  Mick was sick of seeing his son hanging around the house. For months now he’d cut Kevin some slack. He’d figured it took time to recover from losing his wife. Maybe just as much to recover from being in a war zone, despite Kevin’s claim that he’d put all that behind him when he’d been discharged. Kevin had had enough nightmares under this very roof to make a liar out of himself, though Mick was sure Kevin thought no one knew about those.

  Mick had listened to everyone else’s opinion that Kevin needed time, but to his way of thinking, time was up. A thirty-year-old man needed a focus in his life, a reason to get up in the morning, something beyond a demanding two-year-old. Mick intended to see that Kevin got busy finding that new direction for himself.

  He found Kevin on the beach, staring out to sea while Davy built a lopsided sand castle beside him. The structure of it offended Mick’s architectural eye, but he shook off the desire to sit down and teach his grandson how to build something that would withstand the first lap of a wave. This walk down to the beach wasn’t about giving his grandson an engineering lesson he wasn’t ready for.

  “Grampa,” Davy said, looking up at him with glee. “Play with me, okay?”

  “Maybe later, sport,” Mick told him. He turned to Kevin. “You have plans for the day?”

  Kevin shook his head.

  “Good. Then you can come with me.”

  “Where?” Kevin asked suspiciously.

  “I’m managing one of the Habitat for Humanity sites. I could use some help.”

  Kevin pulled his sunglasses down on his nose and eyed Mick skeptically. “Really? You’re volunteering?”

  “Yes, I’m volunteering,” Mick said irritably. “It was your grandmother’s idea, and it was a good one.”

  “And your company?”

  “Can pretty much run itself these days,” Mick said. At first that discovery hadn’t pleased him. He’d always thought of himself as indispensable, but now he’d recognized the advantages of having more free time. He was spending quite a lot of it in New York with his ex-wife. The rest he was devoting to building these houses for Habitat for Humanity. They’d been thrilled to have someone with his level of expertise on a site. With his contractor skills, he could juggle several locations at once and keep construction flowing on all of them. And he had contacts in the trades all over Maryland and wasn’t above twisting anyone’s arm to get a few free hours of help with the skilled carpentry, electrical and plumbing work.

  “Okay, let’s say I can swallow this new, compassionate, giving role of yours,” Kevin said, his tone wry. “Where exactly do you see me fitting in? You pretty much banished me from every job site you were ever on. As you were so fond of pointing out, I have absolutely no construction skills. I believe you mentioned a time or two that I was a disgrace.” He grinned. “You weren’t wrong.”

  To Mick’s dismay, Kevin was right about that. It had been a sad day when he’d realized that neither of his sons knew one end of a hammer from the other and, worse, didn’t care. They couldn’t even paint a room without making a mess of it.

  Still, he said optimistically, “You’re not too old to learn. A lot of volunteers aren’t experienced.”

  “But won’t it be embarrassing when the son of the great architect Mick O’Brien puts up a wall that falls right back down?”

  Mick chuckled despite himself. “You have a point.” He studied his son with a worried frown. “So, what are you going to do with yourself?”

  “Today? I thought I’d hang out here for a while with Davy, then maybe run some errands.”

  Mick barely managed to keep his irritation out of his voice. “You know I’m not just asking about today. What’s your long-term plan, Kevin?”

  “No idea,” he said succinctly and without remorse.

  “There are paramedic openings here in town,” Mick said.

  “So I’m told,” Kevin admitted. “I’m not interested.”

  “Then what does interest you?” Mick asked impatiently, then could have bitten his tongue. He’d vowed to build a bridge with his son, not destroy the rare bit of peace between them.

  At his raised voice, Davy looked up, his chin wobbling precariously, his eyes filling with tears. The look tore at Mick’s heart. He bent down and scooped up his grandson.

  “Hey, big fella, what about you? You want to come with Grampa today?”

  Kevin frowned at that. “You can’t have a two-year-old running around a construction site,” he objected.

  “I’m only going by for an hour or two to check a few things. I have a hard hat somewhere around here that’s just his size. I won’t let him out of my sight. You could ride along with us, if you’re worried about him.”

  “Nice try, Dad, but contrary to whatever impression I gave you earlier, I actually do have things to do.”

  “Such as?” Mick pushed.

  The simple question seemed to throw Kevin. Clearly he needed time to invent an excuse.

  “I’m going into town,” he said eventually.

  “For?”

  “What difference does it make why I’m going? Isn’t the goal to get poor, depressed Kevin out of the house?” He stood up and stalked off.

  Mick stood, staring after him, and sighed.

  “Daddy go bye-bye,” Davy said sadly.

  Mick gave his grandson a hug. “That’s okay, pal. We’re going bye-bye, too, and something tells me we’re going to have a lot more fun.”

  And, truth be told, knowing that ripped him apart inside.

  3

&nbs
p; Despite his resolve the day before, Kevin found himself on Main Street in front of the bookstore. He was only here because he was so annoyed with his father, and he might have walked right on past, but his sister chose that moment to step outside of Flowers on Main, the shop she’d opened over a year ago.

  “Well, well, look who’s here,” she said cheerfully. “You came to help Shanna, after all. Good for you.”

  “Maybe I came to help you,” he muttered, embarrassed at having been caught anywhere in the vicinity after making such a big show about his determination to steer clear of the town’s new bookseller. He watched anxiously to see if his sister would buy that he’d come to see her.

  Bree regarded him with a speculative expression. “Okay,” she said eventually, as if taking his claim at face value. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I could deliver flowers,” he offered impulsively, seizing at straws.

  “You could,” she said agreeably, “but I already pay someone to do that.” She seemed to be fighting a smile.

  “Maybe your place needs to be swept out. I could do that.”

  She laughed then. “You are so pitiful, big brother. Go inside and give Shanna a hand. She’s the one who could really use some help today. Being a Good Samaritan to a newcomer in town will make you feel better. Who knows? You might even enjoy yourself.”

  She was probably right about that. Gram had always taught them that reaching out to someone else was the best way to forget about their own problems. He regarded his sister with a narrowed gaze. “Only if you don’t mention it to anyone else,” he bargained. “I’ll do it, if you promise you won’t go blabbing to Jess, Abby and Gram, making some kind of big deal out of it or hinting around that I’m interested in Shanna.”

  “You didn’t mention Dad,” she noted. “Can I tell him about it?”

  “Actually, he sort of knows,” he admitted sheepishly. “Not about Shanna exactly, but that I was coming into town today for a reason. I used it as an excuse to get out of going with him to a work site.”

  She stared at him in astonishment. “Dad wanted you to go to a construction site with him? Seriously?”

  Kevin laughed at her reaction. “Yeah, it shocked me, too. Obviously he’s desperate to get me out of the house.” He sobered. “So, is it a deal? If I help Shanna, you’ll keep quiet about it? I just don’t need the aggravation.”

  “What aggravation?” she asked, her expression all innocence.

  He rolled his eyes. “We both know Abby and the rest of them would be down here before the day’s out to check out Shanna. Whatever antimatchmaking resolutions they supposedly live by would be tossed out the window. If Shanna passes inspection, they’ll be throwing her at me every time I turn around.”

  “Would that be so awful?”

  “Exactly how much of their meddling did you find tolerable?”

  Her smile spread. “You have a point. It’s a deal. I won’t say a word.”

  “And you won’t poke your head in every two seconds to see what’s happening in there,” he added.

  “Why? You scared I’ll catch you sneaking kisses behind the bookshelves?”

  Kevin turned on his heel. “That’s it. I’m out of here.”

  Bree caught him before he’d taken half a dozen steps back toward his truck. “I’m sorry,” she said. Her tone was serious, but there was still a wicked twinkle in her eyes. “I just can’t resist teasing you. You’re so cute when you get all flustered.”

  “How old are we? Thirteen?”

  She held up a hand. “I’ll behave. I promise. Now, go. It’s a good deed, Kevin, not a lifetime commitment.”

  Kevin hesitated, then walked back to the bookstore. He cast one last warning look at his sister, then turned the knob and went inside.

  He found Shanna sitting in the middle of the floor with a screwdriver in one hand and tears tracking down her cheeks. She was surrounded by piles of unassembled shelves.

  “Uh-oh,” Kevin said, immediately recognizing the problem.

  Shanna swiped impatiently at the tears, then regarded him with a chagrined expression. “I thought they came assembled. When the delivery guy piled up this huge stack of boxes, then headed for the door, I almost went after him with a hammer. I begged him to stay. I offered him money. It was pitiful. I even offered him a lifetime of free books if he’d put these together for me, but he just waved and walked out the door. What kind of customer service is that? I’d call and complain, but there’s no time. I have to get these put together.”

  She stopped babbling and gave him a watery smile. “Have I mentioned yet that I am really, really glad to see you, especially if you have any idea how to assemble these things?”

  Kevin wanted to be the hero she needed, but the sight of all these pieces of wood, little plastic bags of screws and nails and other unidentifiable pieces of metal made him want to curse a blue streak himself. If his father heard about how Kevin’s day had turned out, he’d laugh himself silly.

  Still, she looked so frantic, he had to do something. He took another survey of the materials. How hard could it be?

  “Instructions?” he asked at last, resigned to taking a stab at putting the shelves together.

  She held up a sheet of paper with a diagram on it.

  He looked at it. “Okay, this looks easy enough,” he said, faking confidence.

  She frowned at that. “Really? It makes sense to you?”

  He considered lying to reassure her, then shrugged instead. “Not really, but we’re two intelligent adults. Surely we can figure this out. If not, I have an ace in the hole.”

  “Oh?”

  “My dad,” he said succinctly. It might be humiliating to call in Mick, but in the interest of making sure these shelves didn’t tumble down on top of Shanna the instant the first books were stacked on them, it might be necessary.

  “Isn’t putting bookshelves together a poor use of his skills?” she asked. “He’s an architect, right? A really famous one?”

  “He is, but he’ll see this as an act of kindness,” Kevin said. “He seems to be open to all sorts of unusual opportunities these days.”

  She studied his expression. “You sound bitter.”

  “Maybe, just a little,” he said. “But that’s a story for another day. You read and point. I’ll assemble.”

  “Works for me,” she said.

  An hour later they had the frame for the first set of shelves assembled and the backing nailed on. It even seemed relatively sturdy. Kevin stood it upright and gave it a gentle shove, just to be sure. It sat squarely in place. “Not bad,” he murmured.

  “It’s excellent,” Shanna said.

  He laughed at her enthusiasm. “Let’s not get carried away. Where do you want it?”

  When he’d positioned it to her satisfaction, they installed the movable shelves.

  “Perfect,” she announced, then met his gaze. “There are only fifteen more units to go.”

  Kevin swallowed hard. “Fifteen?”

  She nodded, her expression apologetic. “You don’t have to help with all of them. I think I’ve figured it out from watching you. And the units for the children’s books are smaller. I can handle those, I think.”

  It was the I think that kept him squarely in place. He resigned himself to a very long day. “I’m here. We might as well finish, or at least get as many done as we can today.”

  And as long as they were focused on the shelves, there was little time for personal chitchat, no time for his gaze to linger on her soft curves and the shapely legs revealed by a pair of shorts. There were only a few spare seconds for that quick hint of betrayal that flashed through him when he did feel a stirring of interest in this woman who wasn’t Georgia.

  That thought was so troubling, he stood up abruptly. “First, though, I think we need some lunch. I’ll run over to Sally’s and pick something up. Anything in particular you want?”

  Shanna looked startled, but she recovered quickly. “Sure, a tuna on whole wheat would be grea
t. Maybe some chips.” She met his gaze. “But I’m buying. I’ll get my purse.”

  “I’ll pay for it,” Kevin said, but she’d already turned and headed to the back room.

  He stood staring after her. In that instant, he realized for the first time that she was as skittish as he was, maybe even more so. If looking at her aroused his masculine appreciation, then this sign of vulnerability intrigued him in a way that was far more frightening. It was one thing to be here, helping out a newcomer to town. It was something else entirely to allow himself to be fascinated by her. Bree would gloat from now till doomsday if she ever found out her scheme just might be working.

  Shanna had recognized the panic in Kevin’s eyes earlier in the day. She was pretty sure it was reflected in her own. After that one moment of disconcerting awareness, she’d been careful the rest of the day to avoid his gaze, to keep the conversation impersonal.

  Of course, there was only so much to be said about the assembly of the bookshelves, especially since after a while it had become almost routine. An awkward silence had fallen between them. She’d had no idea how to break it without venturing through the minefield that was apparently his life these days.

  It occurred to her that if she couldn’t converse with a man who was spending hours out of his day helping her put together bookshelves, it might not bode well for her ability to come up with small talk with which to engage her customers. That gave her a whole different reason to panic.

  She had to stop sitting here pretending to help him when he obviously no longer needed her to read the instructions. She needed to focus on some other task.

  Standing up, she announced to some point behind his left ear, “I’m going to start shelving books while you finish up, if that’s okay.”

  He didn’t even glance up. “Good idea. I can finish up these last few units by myself.”

  Shanna opted to start in the children’s section, which was as far from Kevin as it was possible to get without leaving the store. The shipment of picture books had come in at midmorning, so she started by unpacking those, her eyes lighting up as she studied the colorful artwork in each book before placing it on the shelf.