“Not like this, Luke,” she whispered, heartbroken.
“But it’s the perfect solution,” he argued. “We’d have gotten to this point eventually. Why not now, when it can make a difference?”
She regarded him sorrowfully. “Because it sounds far too much like a timely business proposition. If and when you ever ask me to marry you for real, it has to be because you’re in it heart and soul, not just as a matter of convenience.”
He seemed stunned that she’d rejected the idea, but what else could she have done? Neither of them would have been happy with a bargain like this. He’d proclaimed too often that marriage wasn’t yet on that annoyingly predictable timetable of his.
“I think you should go,” she said quietly.
“I’ve made you angry, and I’m not sure why,” he said, his expression charmingly perplexed. “I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“I know you did,” she responded. “And I love you for making such a grand offer. But just because something might seem right for one reason doesn’t mean it’s for the best. Go, Luke, please. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Not just yet,” he said stubbornly. “I thought marriage was what you wanted.”
“It is,” she assured him. “But not like this. Never like this.”
That he didn’t understand why she felt that way left her feeling empty and lost.
When Moira arrived at Connor’s office in the morning, Megan was already there.
“Moira, I don’t want you to worry. We’re going to fix this,” Connor said as soon as she walked in. “Mom and I already have a plan.”
“That’s right, and you’re absolutely not to worry,” Megan told her.
Moira wanted to feel reassured by their confidence, but she was still too hurt by last night’s conversation with Luke.
“I’ll leave it in your hands, Connor,” Moira said. “Whatever you need to do. If I have to go back to Ireland right after the show, it’s okay.”
Both of them regarded her with surprise.
“You’d be okay with that?” Megan asked. “What about Luke?”
“I’m not talking about Luke right now. He’s not part of this decision.”
Even Connor looked flabbergasted by that statement. He exchanged a bewildered look with his mother.
“Connor, unless you need something more right now, I think Moira and I should be going,” Megan said, already standing up and tucking her arm through Moira’s. “She’ll be with me at the gallery if you need her to fill anything out or to sign anything.”
Connor nodded, looking relieved to have his mother take charge, especially since there were things going on here that clearly mystified him.
En route to the gallery, they stopped to pick up large containers of coffee from Sally’s.
“Raspberry croissants as well, I think,” Megan told Sally. “Or would chocolate be better? This may be a chocolate occasion. What the heck. Give us both.”
“I don’t think I can eat,” Moira argued, but Megan ignored the protest and ordered them, anyway.
Once they’d arrived at the gallery, Megan encouraged her to sit, but two seconds later, Moira was up and pacing.
“I know this is upsetting,” Megan began.
“You have no idea,” Moira told her miserably.
“You do understand that Connor will do everything in his power to fix it,” Megan said.
“I know, but I’m beginning to think that going home to Ireland sooner, rather than later, would be for the best. I spoke to Peter this morning, and my old job will be waiting. Perhaps some of the photography assignments I’d declined will still be available, too.”
Megan regarded her with dismay. “Your old job at the pub?” she asked incredulously.
Moira nodded. “Along with a few photography assignments. There were new bookings just yesterday for a wedding and two baby showers, if I want them. I told him I’d take them.”
“But why?” Megan asked. “How can you do this sort of turnaround just when everything is falling into place here for a much more phenomenal future?”
“It won’t matter without Luke,” Moira said. “I’ll be better off on my home turf, living far more simply. I won’t give up on photography, not after this, but I don’t need it to be on such a grand scale.”
“What’s Luke done?” Megan asked bluntly, looking as if she was one second away from heading back up the street to the pub to throttle him if she didn’t like the answer.
“Why would you assume my decision has anything to do with him?”
Megan smiled at what she apparently considered to be a disingenuous question. “Because he’s the reason you came here, and I can only assume he’d be the reason you’re suddenly so eager to leave.”
Moira paused in her pacing and sighed. “He asked me to marry him,” she told Megan. Before her mentor could express her joy at the news, Moira added, “It’s a legal maneuver, nothing more.”
“I don’t believe that, Moira. I truly don’t. O’Brien men are more than capable of the magnificent gesture, believe me, but a marriage of convenience? No, I don’t think so. If Luke asked you to marry him, it’s because he wants to be married to you.”
Moira shook her head. “He doesn’t want me unceremoniously shipped off, that’s all.”
“Why are you so certain of that?”
“Because,” she began, tears stinging her eyes, “he never—not even once—mentioned that he loved me. The proposal was all about the legalities.”
Megan blinked, but remained depressingly silent. Obviously, no amount of optimism was enough for her to find a positive spin for that.
“Okay, what did you do when you saw Moira last night?” Connor demanded when he walked into the pub at midmorning.
Luke stared at him, his temper stirring. He’d been itching for a fight all night, and it seemed that his cousin might be on the verge of providing the perfect opportunity. “What makes you think I did anything wrong?”
“Because I expected Moira to come into my office today ready to go into battle to stay here indefinitely, and what I saw was a defeated woman who was all too eager to leave. Mum saw it, too. She’s dragged her off for a heart-to-heart chat, and I’m here to try to figure out what the devil is going on.”
Luke sighed. Unfortunately, there was nothing in Connor’s comment to justify Luke’s punching his fist through anything. He explained the entirety of the conversation he’d had with Moira the night before. “And then she threw me out,” he summed up.
“Oh, boy,” Connor murmured. “Been there, done that.”
“What?” Luke asked in bewilderment.
“Made an untimely proposal that got tossed right back in my face. You were away at school when Heather was in that awful accident, but I had this huge epiphany that day and realized I didn’t want to live my life without her. Unfortunately, after all the years I’d been protesting that marriage is nothing more than an unnecessary piece of paper, Heather didn’t buy my sudden conversion.”
“How’d you convince her you were ready to take that next step?” Luke asked, understanding at last what had gone so terribly wrong the night before. He’d changed his priorities on a dime and done it for all the wrong reasons, just as Moira had suggested before tossing him out of Gram’s cottage.
“Time and actions,” Connor said. “I waged a carefully calculated campaign to prove my sincerity to her. A few of those blew up in my face, too, like buying Driftwood Cottage for her.”
“But I thought she’d fallen in love with that house,” Luke said. “Wasn’t that why you bought it?”
Connor nodded. “And she accused me of buying it out from under her when she’d intended to buy it for herself. She wanted no part of it. Dad finally convinced her that she might
as well participate in the remodeling or she’d wind up living in a house I’d renovated and it would be nothing like she’d imagined.”
Luke shook his head. “Women are a mysterious breed, aren’t they?”
“In my experience, they certainly are,” Connor said. “Did you at least declare your undying love when you were making this proposal last night?”
Luke winced. “Not exactly.”
Connor grinned. “Yeah, I blew that part, too. Women don’t seem to get that we mere mortal men sometimes have difficulty putting all the right words together. Personally, I think there ought to be a textbook available, or at least some kind of romance for dummies guidebook. I still blow things on a regular basis. Fortunately, Heather usually just rolls her eyes and patiently explains how I’ve gone so far off course. At least when she’s not freezing me out and waiting for me to figure it out for myself.”
Luke wasn’t entirely reassured to know that communication didn’t always improve just because two people had taken a walk down the aisle. Apparently, saying “I do” was the least of it. At least there was nothing unclear about those two words.
Connor gave him a commiserating look. “Do you really want to marry Moira?”
“I think so,” Luke said, then cringed at the lack of enthusiasm in his voice.
“No wonder she didn’t fall on her knees in gratitude if you sounded that enthusiastic last night,” Connor said with a shake of his head. “Look, if you’re not ready to get married, then you shouldn’t do it. Period.”
“I have this timetable,” Luke said.
Connor stared at him incredulously. “How do you envision that working? Were you going for a head count of women? So many dollars in the bank? What exactly?”
“It sounds ridiculous when you put it that way,” Luke said.
“Because it is ridiculous. Either you know in your heart that Moira is the one or you don’t. Which is it?”
Luke didn’t really have to think about it. “She’s the one,” he said with conviction. “I knew it the night we met.”
“Then maybe you need to consider scrapping that timetable of yours and grabbing her before she gets away, because if her mood earlier was any indication, she will go away, Luke.” He held Luke’s gaze, then added, “And once she’s gone, with all that physical and emotional distance between you, it’ll be that much harder to win her back.”
Luke sighed as Connor left him alone to ponder what a mess he’d made of everything.
He might have spent the entire afternoon in a funk if Dillon hadn’t called just then to let him know that they’d just returned home and he was taking Nell straight to the hospital.
“The hospital? Why?”
“She’s had a bit of a spell,” Dillon said, sounding shaken. “She fainted at the train station. She came around right away and wanted to continue on home, but I persuaded her she needs at least a night in the hospital to be checked out. Mick’s already alerting the others, but I need you to find Moira and let her know where I am.”
“I’ll tell her,” Luke promised. “And we’ll be there within the hour. Tell Gram I love her.”
“Will do,” Dillon promised.
“You’re okay?” he asked worriedly. The stress of watching Nell pass out couldn’t have been easy for Moira’s granddad.
“I’ll be a lot better once the doctors have confirmed that Nell is okay,” Dillon said. “I’ll see you soon.”
Luke hung up the phone, told Bryan to take over for him and headed to the gallery in search of Moira. But when he arrived, Megan told him she wasn’t there, and she wasn’t a hundred percent certain where she’d gone.
“Back to Gram’s?” he asked.
“Possibly.” She studied him curiously. “Is this about making things right with her?”
“No, it’s about Dillon and Gram. They’re at the hospital. I thought for sure Mick would have called you by now. Gram’s had a fainting spell.”
Megan muttered a surprisingly vehement curse. “I knew she was trying to do too much, but she wouldn’t let any of us pitch in. Okay, you go and try to track down Moira. I’ll head for the hospital. I’ll be in touch on your cell phone if there’s any news.”
“Thanks, Megan.”
Luke had never felt a greater sense of panic as he headed for Gram’s cottage. He had huge fences to mend with Moira, but right this second all he could think about was what the O’Briens would do if they lost Gram. It just couldn’t happen. Not yet. Not like this.
Moira had walked and walked despite the surprising level of heat and humidity on the June day. She wasn’t used to weather like this. It certainly didn’t help to clear her head the way a chilly breeze might have.
She was almost back at Nell’s when she spotted Luke coming toward her, his expression grim.
“We need to talk, Moira,” he said when he was close enough for her to hear him.
She shook her head. “Not now. My head is already spinning from our last talk.”
“This isn’t about you and me or whether you go or stay. It’s about Gram.”
Alarm shot through her. “What’s happened to Nell?”
“I’ll tell you what I know on the way. We need to get to the hospital. Your grandfather’s asking for you, and I need to be there for Gram.”
They practically ran back to the house, where she paused only to grab her purse and put on a pair of shoes. Then they were driving to Baltimore.
She listened as Luke told her the little he knew. She could see the fear in his eyes, hear the distress in his voice. She reached across and rested a hand on his leg just long enough to give it a reassuring squeeze. “She’s strong, Luke. She’ll be fine. And didn’t my grandfather say it was only a fainting spell?”
“People don’t faint for no good reason,” he argued.
“But sometimes it’s nothing more than needing to eat or being overly tired. The trip to New York may have been too much for her.”
“I told you, didn’t I, that she almost passed out right in front of me once before? I put my mum on the case, but Gram managed to convince her, too, that there was nothing to worry about.”
Moira fell silent then. After all, what could she say that could possibly boost his spirits when neither of them knew the truth about the situation?
At the hospital waiting room, they found most of the family already assembled. Abby had apparently gotten there first, coming straight from her Baltimore office. Thomas had been hard on her heels, coming from Annapolis. Mick and Jeff had arrived soon after, thanks to using back roads and speeds that likely defied the limits.
Moira went straight to her grandfather, who was sitting by himself, looking distraught and pale. She sat beside him and took his hands in hers. His were ice-cold.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I will be when they tell me Nell is fine,” he said. “I’m glad Luke found you, though. It’s good to see a friendly face.”
She frowned at his words. “Don’t tell me the family is blaming you for what happened?”
“Oh, they’re not saying as much, but I’m sure they think Nell’s been overdoing it during my visit and that this trip to New York was too much for her. How can I argue about that under the circumstances?”
“But she wanted to go,” Moira protested. “It was her idea, wasn’t it?”
He nodded. “But I should probably have thought better of it. I knew she’d had a couple of spells. She dismissed them as nothing, blamed it all on adjusting to a new medicine, and I let her get away with it. What was I thinking?” he asked miserably.
“You were thinking that Nell is a woman who knows her own mind and body and is perfectly capable of making decisions for herself,” Moira told him firmly.
He smiled at her fierce words. “I’
m not entirely sure if that defense was meant to be of me or of Nell, but I appreciate it either way.”
“Well, I meant every word. This isn’t your fault, and I’ll take on anyone who says it was.”
Just then Mick joined them. He’d apparently overheard at least some of their conversation, because he gave Dillon an apologetic look. “I had a feeling you might be thinking that we’re all over there ganging up to cast blame on you. That’s not the case, Dillon. I know Ma’s stubbornness as well as anyone. This trip was something she wanted, and none of us would have been able to discourage her.”
“But I should have tried,” Dillon said.
“And wasted your breath?” Mick said. “Why? And none of this matters, anyway, because she’s going to be up and running things back in Chesapeake Shores in no time.”
Moira saw her grandfather draw in a relieved breath and in that moment she felt a surprising surge of gratitude toward Mick. “Thank you for saying that,” she told him.
Mick nodded, his expression filled with understanding. “Let me go and rattle a few cages and see if I can get some information. We could all use a bit of good news, I think.”
When he’d walked away, Moira turned to her grandfather. “You see, if Mick can be so understanding, then for sure no one else is blaming you.”
He smiled tiredly. “Perhaps not, but if this doesn’t end well, sweetheart, I’ll blame myself.”
23
Moira’s grandfather had refused to leave the hospital, even after everyone had been reassured that Nell’s dizzy spell had likely been caused by a combination of low blood pressure and low blood sugar. Her blood pressure medicine had apparently been working too well, according to the doctor. He’d recommended they all go home.
“You should all get a good night’s rest,” the doctor told them. “If she does well on the new blood pressure medication overnight, she’ll be released in the morning.”
“I intend to be right beside her when she wakes up,” Dillon had responded stubbornly. “The rest of you should go.”
The Summer Garden Page 30