The Summer Garden

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The Summer Garden Page 8

by Sherryl Woods


  “Meaning you’re the one who’s truly hoping for a heartier meal,” Gram said with a grin.

  He shrugged. “I’ve a long day of hard work ahead.”

  “And you hate oatmeal,” she countered. “Even when I filled it with raisins and brown sugar, then topped it with cream, you always turned up your nose.”

  “Nasty stuff,” he said, then grinned back at her. “No offense.”

  She shook her head, her expression one of amused tolerance. “Get the eggs and bacon from the fridge.”

  He’d just set a large platter of eggs and bacon on the table when the back door opened and Dillon and Moira came in. Moira’s cheeks were flushed from the early- morning chill in the air and her hair was tousled by the wind off the water. Her blue eyes were sparkling with delight, either from the walk or the sight of him. He couldn’t help hoping it was the latter. Since spotting her the night before, his emotions had been in turmoil, a mix of pure happiness and panic that her presence meant so much.

  “This is a surprise,” she said.

  “I thought you could come with me to the pub after breakfast,” he said, then greeted Dillon, who was watching the two of them with amusement.

  “Ah, he’s finally noticed I’m in the room,” Dillon commented.

  “And I faded into the background when the door opened as well,” his grandmother said.

  “If the two of you are going to give me grief, I’ll lure Moira away to Sally’s for a peaceful breakfast,” Luke threatened.

  “Not after you’ve insisted on cooking all these eggs,” Gram retorted. “Sit, everyone. Dillon and Moira, you have your choice of eggs and bacon, oatmeal or scones, or all of it.”

  “I’ve worked up an appetite,” Dillon said. “I’ll start with oatmeal and go from there.”

  “Eggs for me,” Moira said. “And then a scone. They smell delicious, Mrs. O’Brien.”

  “It’s Nell, please. I thought we’d established that in Ireland.” She turned to Luke. “What do the two of you have planned for the day?”

  “I’m going to show Moira the pub,” Luke said. “And she’s going to help me sort through all the potential musicians for the opening night and make a list of those I should book for later.”

  “And will I be sneaking a peek at this pub of yours today?” Dillon asked.

  Nell reached over and rested a hand on his. “Since I’ve been prevented from stepping foot inside until the opening, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait as well. I’m not about to stand on the sidewalk feeling left out.”

  Luke heard the teasing note in her voice, but he also sensed that his grandmother had a real yearning to be among the first to see the pub. Since her financial support by signing over his trust to him had made the pub possible, he relented.

  “You should all come. You, too, Gram. After all, if it weren’t for you, I could still be struggling to put the financing into place.”

  Dillon gave him a sharp look at that. “Nell’s given you the backing for the pub?”

  Luke sensed his disapproval. “I would never take her money,” he said, regarding the older man with a steady gaze.

  “It was a trust his grandfather had set aside for him,” Nell explained. “It was Luke’s money. He didn’t even know about it. Nor did he ask for it. He was prepared to do this on his own, Dillon.”

  “I see,” Dillon said, though he still didn’t look entirely happy about what he’d heard.

  Moira suddenly stood up. “Luke, perhaps we should be going. I know you have a lot you need to accomplish today.” She turned to her grandfather. “And perhaps you could listen more closely to what Nell has said.”

  Luke smiled at the implied rebuke. “You needn’t rush to my defense, you know.”

  But before the words were out of his mouth, she had grabbed her coat and was gone. By the time he’d kissed his grandmother goodbye and shrugged into his own jacket, she was already out of the yard and marching determinedly toward town.

  When he caught up with her, she finally slowed her pace.

  “Mind telling me what that was about?” he asked. “I don’t think it had anything to do with me or the financial arrangements I made with Gram.”

  She glanced at him, then sighed. “I didn’t like him jumping to conclusions and making judgments about you.”

  “If I’d done what he suspected, the judgment would have been fair enough,” Luke said.

  “But you didn’t,” she said heatedly. “You’re not that kind of man. You’d never take advantage of your grandmother in the way he was thinking.”

  Luke frowned. “Tell me the truth, Moira. Are you worried that your grandfather won’t approve of me?”

  “I’ve never given two figs about anyone’s opinion but my own,” she said.

  He smiled at her fierce tone. “I don’t actually believe that, if you don’t mind my saying so. I think you care a little too much. And I think what he said to me may have reminded you of things either he or your mother have said to you. It cut a little too close, didn’t it?”

  She scowled, then sighed. “How do you know me so bloody well after so little time?”

  He reached out a hand and halted her, then turned her to face him. It took a full minute, but she finally lifted her gaze to meet his. “Because,” he said gently, “when you’re not being all prickly and defensive, you’ve let me see into your heart.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about that,” she said, catching him by surprise. “I wonder if it wouldn’t be better if I’d remained a mystery.”

  Luke laughed at the plaintive note in her voice. “Too late,” he told her, leaning down to cover her mouth with his and cut off any further words. Eventually she relaxed into the kiss, clinging to his shoulders, letting the heat build and swirl between them.

  When he finally released her, her gaze was a bit dazed, but there was a smile on her lips. “It is too late, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me knowing you inside out.”

  She grinned at his smug certainty. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to see about that. I imagine I can still come up with a few surprises, Luke O’Brien.”

  He laughed then. “I’ll look forward to them.”

  And, heaven knows, he would. Perhaps more than he should.

  6

  Moira and Luke had almost reached Shore Road when the first of the O’Briens popped up in their path. Moira recognized Heather, who was obviously on her way to open her quilt shop. A mischievous grin spread across Heather’s face when she spotted them.

  “How did you enjoy your surprise?” she teased Luke. “Aren’t you glad my husband didn’t give it away?”

  Moira regarded her curiously. “That would be Connor, right?” she asked, trying to get all of them straight again in her head.

  “Connor, the blabbermouth,” Heather confirmed just as the man in question left a parked car and headed in their direction. “We met Luke just outside of Nell’s last night. Connor used the opportunity to taunt him about being late and almost gave away the big secret that you were waiting out back.”

  “Nobody told me it was supposed to be a big secret,” Connor protested as he joined them. “Everyone’s known about Dillon coming for weeks.”

  “But not about Moira,” Heather reminded him, then faced Moira. “Was it too overwhelming being surrounded by O’Briens last night?”

  “I had a taste of it in Dublin,” Moira reminded her. “It’s getting easier.”

  “Well, they still scare the daylights out of me,” Heather confided. “We should have coffee and I could give you all my tips for survival. If you’re free now, I have time before I have to open my shop.”

  “She’s coming with me to see the pub,” Luke said.

  Connor
and Heather both looked stunned. “She’s allowed to cross the threshold?” Connor asked indignantly. “Why not us, then?”

  “Because she’s special,” Luke said. “While you two are nothing but nuisances. Go away, and don’t try sneaking a look when I open the door.”

  Connor laughed. “Don’t you know we go by every night and peer in the window to see what’s been accomplished? Dad’s crew has performed miracles in record time, it seems to me. It already looks nothing like the French bistro that was there before.”

  Moira chuckled at Luke’s stunned reaction. “You didn’t think to cover the window from all the prying eyes? Even I would have known to do that.”

  “I asked them to stay away and I trusted them to do it,” Luke said, scowling fiercely at Connor and his wife. “Believe me, I’ll correct that the minute we get inside. In fact, I’m going to Ethel’s this minute to see if she has some rolls of brown paper I can use.”

  Heather beamed. “Good, then that will give Moira time to come to Sally’s with me. You can join us there, or I’ll walk her over to the pub when we’re through.” She winked at Moira. “Okay with you? I think Luke needs time to come to grips with more evidence of his family’s sneakiness.”

  “I would love coffee,” Moira admitted, though what she wanted even more was to get to know another woman who’d had to learn to cope with the tight-knit O’Briens.

  “I’ll join you,” Connor said at once.

  “No, you won’t,” Heather said. “Not that I wouldn’t love another few minutes with you, but you’re due in court in half an hour. Weren’t you already grumbling about how late we were when we dropped little Mick off at day care?”

  Connor glanced at his watch, muttered a curse, then dropped a kiss on his wife’s cheek. “Love you. See you later.”

  Connor took off and, after casting a suspicious look at Heather, Luke left them at the door of Ethel’s Emporium. “If you don’t have her at the pub in a half hour, I’m coming to look for you,” he warned.

  Heather grinned at him. “Don’t you think I’m perfectly capable of running through all your secrets in half an hour? I can probably do the condensed version in fifteen minutes and scare her off forever.”

  Luke sighed. “Please don’t.”

  Heather patted his cheek. “Okay, since you asked so nicely.”

  It was only a few steps to reach Sally’s, but by then they’d passed both Shanna’s bookstore and Bree’s flower shop and caught their attention. The next thing Moira knew, they were tagging along, so there were four of them tucked into a booth at the small café, coffee and croissants in front of them. The three O’Brien women wore expectant expressions.

  “Am I supposed to entertain you now?” Moira asked dryly.

  “It must seem that way,” Bree said, laughing. “Sorry. Having been born into this family, I never thought how intimidating it must be to be an outsider.”

  “Trust me, it’s terrifying,” Shanna said.

  “Amen to that,” Heather added. “But once you’ve been accepted, Moira, it’s like being in some kind of giant coed secret society. For someone like me, who was an only child, it’s been pretty amazing.”

  “All you need to know,” Bree told her, “is that while O’Briens in general stick together against the outside world, the women stick together against the men. I was the quiet one in my family, and with a father like Mick, I can’t tell you what it meant to me to have Abby and Jess as backup.”

  Moira looked from one woman to another and wondered if they could be friends. They were so different from the girls she’d known back home. These were confident, successful women in their own right. They’d not only found, but established, careers they loved, while she was still terrified to hope that she might have found her own sense of direction with just a handful of praised photos on a pub wall and a few jobs lined up for her return to Dublin.

  “How did you all turn out this way?” she blurted without thinking how it might sound.

  Heather regarded her curiously. “What way?”

  “Strong. Sure of yourselves. Oh, I can hold my own in an argument. Some have even called me a pain in the butt or worse.” She gave them a knowing grin, perfectly aware of the terrible first impression she’d made on them in Ireland. Without waiting for them to fumble around trying to deny it, she added, “But that’s not the same as knowing who you are and what you’re meant to be.”

  All three of them startled her by laughing.

  “Oh, Moira, is that how we seem to you?” Bree asked. “You should have been around when I came home from Chicago with my tail between my legs, having failed at being a playwright, which was, I thought, my dream. I opened Flowers on Main because flowers were absolutely the only other thing I knew anything about, thanks to Gram and her gardening.”

  “But you have a theater of your own here in town now,” Moira recalled.

  Bree nodded. “I got my legs back under me, in part thanks to Jake believing in me even more than I believed in myself.”

  “And the bookstore wasn’t my first career,” Shanna said. “Only after I’d failed abysmally at my first marriage did I leave both a boring job and my old life and come here to do this. I met Kevin before I even got the doors open. Talk about the ultimate unexpected bonus!”

  Heather glanced from Bree to Shanna. “I’d forgotten how much we all have in common. I was teaching and hated it. When I got pregnant with little Mick, I quit and was living with Connor. I left him when it seemed unlikely he’d ever want to get married, but his mother encouraged me to come to Chesapeake Shores and settle here. It was even her idea that I open the quilt shop after she saw some quilts I’d made. It was the smartest decision I ever made. The family and the town welcomed me, even before Connor came around and concluded that marriage wasn’t quite as dismal a prospect as he’d always thought.”

  Moira was stunned by the admissions. “Then it’s not so terrible that I’m just now figuring out what I want to do?”

  “When I was twenty-two, I was definitely still floundering,” Heather said.

  “And though I thought I knew what I wanted, I wasn’t a success at it,” Bree added.

  “And I was busy making the worst mistake of my life by marrying the wrong man,” Shanna said. “The only blessing that came from that is my stepson, Henry. Kevin and I have adopted him now. And that’s a long story for another day.”

  Moira felt her mouth curve into a smile. “You have no idea what it’s meant to me to have you tell me all this.”

  Heather glanced at her watch, then sighed. “And it’s given us no time at all left to grill you about your relationship with Luke. Very clever,” she said, giving Moira an approving look. “You’ll do well with this family of meddlers.”

  “We’ll have to do this again,” Bree said. “Anytime you’re with Luke at the pub and want a break, come by the shop. I’m usually there in the morning. Sometimes I have to head to the theater in the afternoon if we have a play in preproduction, which we do right now.”

  “But I’m always around,” Shanna said. “And I have coffee at the bookstore.”

  “But I’m the closest,” Heather said triumphantly. “I may not have coffee, but I’m less of a blabbermouth.”

  The comment drew hoots of laughter from her sisters-in-law.

  “I’m serious,” Heather protested. “It’s Connor you’re thinking of, who can’t keep a secret.”

  “And who tells things to Connor?” Bree teased.

  On the sidewalk outside, they parted, Bree to step into her shop next door to Sally’s, then Shanna into hers a few feet down the block. Heather walked the rest of the way with Moira.

  “Have we helped or only terrified you more?”

  “You’ve truly helped,” Moira said, thinking of her relief at the discovery that in a fam
ily of so many overachievers, she wasn’t so far behind the pace, after all. She wondered if Luke had seen the same thing about himself. Maybe when things settled down a bit, she could reassure him about that. Because after this morning, she was pretty sure it was true that the only person putting pressure on him to succeed was himself.

  Luke had just taped the last piece of protective brown paper over the windows when he spotted Moira and Heather on the sidewalk outside. He stepped out to join them, looking anxiously toward Moira to see if she looked dazed. To his surprise, she looked happier than usual.

  “What on earth was on the menu at Sally’s that has you looking so cheerful?” he asked after Heather had gone.

  “Serious girl talk,” she confided.

  “About me?”

  “No, about them. It was a revelation. I’ll tell you all about it sometime, but right now, I want to go inside and see this pub of yours.”

  Luke hesitated. “You understand that it’s not finished, right? The bar we picked out isn’t in place yet, and the tables and chairs haven’t been delivered. Nor have the china and glassware. It’s still pretty much a work in progress. I’ve only a battered table and chair in what will be my office.”

  She touched his lips to silence him. “Would you honestly rather I wait to see it?”

  He drew in a deep breath, then shook his head. “No, now is good.”

  “Then why do you sound so terrified that I’ll judge it and find it lacking?”

  He didn’t want to mention Kristen’s dismissive attitude. It would imply that her opinion carried weight with him. Somehow, though, Moira saw through his silence.

  “Has someone seen it and criticized?” she asked.

  Since he didn’t want to start off with a lie that could eventually come back to bite him in the butt, he nodded.

  “Let me guess. It was that woman, the one who came to Ireland. Though I’d only a glimpse of her once, she struck me as the type to prefer a sophisticated martini bar to a congenial pub.”

 

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