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Acclaim for New York Times bestselling author

Sherryl Woods

‘Sherryl Woods always delights her readers—including me!’ —No.1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber

‘Compulsively readable … Woods’s novel easily rises above hot-button topics to tell a universal tale of friendship’s redemptive power.’

—Publishers Weekly on Mending Fences

‘Sherryl Woods always delivers a fast, breezy … romance.’

—Jayne Ann Krentz

‘Sherryl Woods gives her characters depth, intensity and the right amount of humour.’

—RT Book Reviews

‘Sherryl Woods is a uniquely gifted writer whose deep understanding of human nature is woven into every page.’

—New York Times bestselling author Carla Neggers

Other novels in the Chesapeake Shores series

THE INN AT EAGLE POINT

FLOWERS ON MAIN

HARBOUR LIGHTS

A CHESAPEAKE SHORES CHRISTMAS

Coming soon

MOONLIGHT COVE

Many of Sherryl’s novels are available in eBook

Please visit: www.mirabooks.co.uk

Driftwood Cottage
Sherryl Woods

www.mirabooks.co.uk

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to Chesapeake Shores!

Connor O’Brien, who’s been living in Baltimore, is probably the least well-known of the siblings in this large, dysfunctional family. In some ways, though, he’s the son who’s most embittered by his parents’ divorce and the least likely to walk willingly into marriage. And yet Connor’s love for Heather Donovan and the son they share runs deep. He’s devastated when she calls off their relationship, no longer able to pretend that their halfhearted arrangement is enough. Heather wants it all—the vows, the ring, the piece of paper legally binding them together.

Only when an accident nearly claims her life does Connor realise that a future that doesn’t include Heather is no future at all. But ironically, after all the years of declaring his distrust of marriage, Heather doesn’t believe his sudden turnaround. Or does she have issues of her own, after all?

I hope you’ll enjoy the ride as these two struggle to find their way toward happiness—of course with all those meddling O’Briens around to nudge them determinedly in the right direction.

And next, at last, not only Jess but Uncle Thomas will each find the love of their life. There are hints about that in this book, but, as always, it will take some serious prodding for true love to triumph. What’s the fun of a happy ending if there haven’t been a few roadblocks along the way? Enjoy!

All best,

1

Heather Donovan propped open the front door and stood just inside the brightly lit storefront in Chesapeake Shores so she could inhale the scent of sea air from the bay across Shore Road. Turning slowly, she studied the stacks of colorful fabric bolts that had to be sorted and displayed, the unopened boxes of quilting supplies and the quilt racks that still required assembly. Her pride and joy, the carefully crafted shelving units, had been built to her specifications by her son’s grandfather, famed architect Mick O’Brien, for whom her son, little Mick, was named.

Seeing it all coming together was a little overwhelming. Not just opening a business, but all of it—moving to this quaint town, deciding to raise her son on her own, giving up on a future with Connor O’Brien—these were all huge steps. Her mind still reeled when she thought about the recent changes in her life. She might embrace the changes, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t scared to death.

If anyone had told her a few months ago that she would leave the man she loved more than anything, that she would take their son and move from Baltimore to a small seaside town and embark on a whole new career, Heather would have laughed at the absurdity of the predictions. Even though Connor stubbornly had refused to consider marriage, she’d thought they had a good life, that they were committed to one another. She’d believed that so strongly that she’d ignored her parents’—actually it had been mostly her mother’s—warnings about the mistake she was making by having a child with Connor without a ring on her finger.

But, in fact, they—she, Connor and their son—might have gone on exactly like that for years if she hadn’t seen how Connor’s career as a divorce lawyer was chipping away at their relationship, how his anger at his parents was corrupting their day-to-day lives. She didn’t like the embittered man she’d seen him becoming, and he seemed to have no desire to change.

It wasn’t as if she’d made her decision to break up lightly. She’d gone away for several weeks, leaving their son with Connor’s family while she’d pondered what was best for her future and for her child’s. She hadn’t been happy about the conclusion she’d reached, that she needed to start a new life on her own, but she’d made peace with it. And, in time, she knew she’d find the fulfillment that had eluded her with Connor.

Not that she could envision a day when she’d stop loving him, she thought even now, months after making the decision. She sighed at how difficult it sometimes was to reconcile emotions with common sense and facing reality, especially with a precious little boy as a constant reminder of what she’d given up.

A bell over the shop’s front door tinkled merrily, interrupting her thoughts. Megan O’Brien stepped inside, carrying her grandson who beamed at the sight of Heather.

“Mama!” he cried, holding out his chubby little arms. Just over a year old now, he was the joy of Heather’s life.

“He was missing you,” Megan explained, then gave her a commiserating look. “And I thought you might be needing a glimpse of him about now. I know you’re still not over all those weeks the two of you spent apart.”

“Thank you,” Heather said, reaching for her son.

“Feeling overwhelmed?” Megan asked with the kind of insight that Heather had come to treasure.

So many times in the past few months she’d regretted that Megan wouldn’t be her mother-in-law. In many ways Heather felt closer to Connor’s mother than she did to her own mother back in Ohio. A wonderful salt-of-the-earth woman who went to church on Sundays, volunteered at a homeless shelter and in a children’s hospital, Bridget Donovan had an endless store of compassion for everyone except her own daughter. She flatly refused to accept that any daughter of hers would willingly choose not to marry the father of her child.

Heather sighed. As if marriage to Connor had ever been an option, no matter how desperately she might have hoped for it.

Heather bounced baby Mick in her arms as she nodded in response to Megan’s question. “You’re right about feeling overwhelmed,” she said, gesturing around the store. “I have no idea where to start. What if opening a shop, especially here, is a huge mistake? I don’t know anything about running a business. And being here, in this town, surrounded by O’Briens, what was I thinking? Why on earth did I let you talk me into this?”

“Because you knew it was a brilliant idea,” Megan said at once, obviously still pleased with herself for coming up with this solution for Heather’s future.

“Still, doubts are understandable,” she consoled Heather. “You’ve made a lot of changes recently. All good ones, I think. As for starting your own business, this is a natural fit for you. The minute I saw those handmade quilts of yours, I knew it. You do absolutely beautiful work. Everyone in town is going to want to own one of your quilts or have you teach them how to make their own.”

Megan fingered a small folk art quilt of a bay scene as she spoke. “This one, for instance, is a treasure. How can you bear to part with it? And at this price? It needs to cost twice as much.”

“The price is fine. I was just experimenting,” Heather said modestly, still astonished that anyone thought her hobby could turn into a thriving business. She had always enjoyed quilting, and it had filled the quiet evenings while Connor studied. She’d never envisioned it as anything more than a hobby.

In fact, her college degree had been in literature. She’d never quite figured out what to do with that besides teach. After two years in an out-of-control Baltimore high school classroom, she’d gratefully quit when she’d become pregnant with Connor’s baby.

She gestured to the quilt Megan was admiring. “If you aren’t just saying that to calm me down, if you really like it, I’ll make one for you.”

Megan’s eyes brightened. “I’d love it, but I will pay you for it, and I swear I’m going to talk you into doubling the price.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well, that’s what I’m paying,” Megan countered just as stubbornly. “You’ve a business to run, after all.”

Heather sighed. “Starting a business is just one of my concerns these days,” she admitted. “What about moving out on Connor? Was that the right decision, Megan?” She couldn’t seem to keep a wistful note out of her voice.

“Even that,” Megan assured her. “My son is stubborn, and you’ve given him exactly the wake-up call he needed.” She patted Heather’s hand. “He loves you. Just tuck that knowledge away. He’ll come around if you’re patient.”

“For how long?” Heather asked. “We met our freshman year in college, dated for four years, moved in together when he was in law school. When I found out I was pregnant, I was so sure we’d get married, especially when he encouraged me to quit my job to be a full-time mom. I was certain we were finally going to be a real family, the kind I’d always wanted. He even said that’s what he wanted, too, just without a marriage license.”

She waved off her regrets. “I should have known better than to expect him to change his mind. Connor always told me he had no intention of ever marrying, that he didn’t believe in marriage. It’s not as if I didn’t understand the rules from the very beginning.”

“People don’t make rules about things like that,” Megan said dismissively. “They just let the past control the future. In Connor’s case, his attitude is all because of what happened between his father and me. Now that Mick and I have remarried and started over, I’m convinced Connor will see that love can endure all kinds of trials, including divorce.”

Heather smiled at her optimism. “Have you met Connor? He’s stubborn as a mule. Once he gets an idea into his head, he won’t let go of it. And look how long it’s been since I moved out. It was last Thanksgiving when I left to think things over, January when I officially left him. It’ll be Easter soon, and he still hasn’t shown any signs of changing his mind. He may not be entirely happy that I’m gone, but he’s not doing anything at all to change the situation.”

Megan grinned. “I’m married to a man just like that, his father. Believe me, there are ways of getting through to their hard heads.” She glanced pointedly at the boy in Heather’s arms. “And you’ve your ace in the hole right there. Connor adores his son.”

Heather shook her head. “A couple can’t build a future around a child. It’s not fair. My parents did that. They stayed in a miserable marriage because of me. They thought it would be best, but it wasn’t. The tension was unbearable. I won’t have that for my son.”

“I’m not suggesting that you be together for your child, only that he’ll keep you in Connor’s orbit while he gets his feet back under him and realizes how much he loves you both. Having you with him was entirely too comfortable. He had it all his own way. The stance you’ve taken is the smart one. Eventually he’ll realize what he needs to do to have the two of you back again.”

“I hope you’re right,” Heather admitted, though she wasn’t counting on it. In fact, if things didn’t work out with Connor, it could make her decision to move to Chesapeake Shores where she’d be surrounded by his family the worst one she’d made in years. The O’Briens might provide an enviable support system, but she’d be reminded of what could have been every minute of every day.

“Of course I’m right,” Megan said confidently. “Now tell me what I can do to help you get organized in here. Do you have a system?”

Even to her own ears, Heather’s laugh had an edge of hysteria about it. “If only,” she said, glancing around at the chaos. She regarded Megan hopefully. “Are you sure you have some time to spare?”

“Of course I do. At Mick’s insistence, I’ve hired a very competent assistant at the gallery, and things are under control. In the meantime, I’ll let her know I’ll be right next door if she needs me,” she said, flipping open her cell phone. When she’d made the call, she told Heather, “Now, just put me to work.”

Heather didn’t hesitate. “If you could start opening those boxes, I could begin sorting the fabric for the displays,” she suggested, settling Mick into the playpen she’d already set up in a corner. He uttered an immediate howl of protest, then spotted one of his favorite toys and was quickly absorbed with that.

Heather and Megan worked in companionable silence for a while before Megan inquired, “Have you told Connor about the shop yet? He didn’t mention it last time we spoke and I certainly didn’t want to be the one to fill him in.”

Heather stiffened. “It hasn’t come up. Truthfully, we barely exchange a dozen words when I drop Mick off to spend the day with him. I haven’t even told him I’ve moved here. He reaches me on my cell phone when he needs to, so it’s not as if it really matters where I’ve settled. I suppose if I’d run off to California, he might have a legitimate complaint, but I’m barely an hour away. Nothing’s changed in terms of his schedule to see little Mick.”

Megan looked distressed by her response. “Oh, Heather, you need to tell him,” she said. “And you need to do it before he comes home for a visit and discovers it for himself or before someone else in the family blabs. He’ll be furious that you’ve kept it from him.”

Heather shrugged. “It’ll just be one more thing to add to the list. He’s already angry that I refused to move back in. To be honest, he wasn’t all that happy when I insisted on keeping little Mick with me after I’d left him here with you while I was trying to sort through things and get my head on straight. He apparently thought the arrangement was going to be permanent.”

“There’s no question that he liked having the baby here with him and the rest of the family,” Megan acknowledged. “We all did. But I think everyone except Connor understood it was only temporary.”

Heather regarded her with sorrow. “Sometimes I think I’m destined to keep making things worse between Connor and me. If we talk at all, we’re at odds over everything.”

Megan smiled at that. “It’s only awkward right now because you won’t give him what he wants—an unconditional commitment that doesn’t include marriage. He has to learn that he can’t always have things on his own terms.”

“But aren’t I doing the same thing, expecting to have things on my terms?” Heather asked.

Megan regarded her thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s true. Maybe it’s just because I think you’re the one who’s right that I’m not blaming any of this standoff on you. I think two people who love each other and have a child together ought to at least try marriage, that they ought to be fighting to make it work.”

She sighed. “Goodness knows, I spent years trying to make things work with Mick before I took the drastic step of leaving. Even in hindsight, I don’t think I had a choice by then, though I know I should have handled things differently and much better where all of our children were concerned. I still regret that, and I’d never have forgiven myself if I’d simply run at the first sign of trouble, rather than leaving as a last resort.”

Heather grinned at her. “But here you are, together again. Happy endings still happen. Why can’t Connor see that, especially when it’s right in front of his face?”

“I fear it’s because he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body,” Megan replied sorrowfully. “He’s become cynical when it comes to love. Mick and I did that to him, and that job of his—dealing with bitter divorces every single day—has reaffirmed his jaded views.”

“Then what makes you think he’ll ever come around?” Heather asked.

“Because I am a romantic,” Megan said, smiling. “I believe in the power of love. And I know how deeply he cares about the people he has let into his heart—his sisters and his brother, his grandmother, even Mick when they’re not battling over one thing or another.”

“I saw that side of him, too, or thought I did,” Heather said softly, though her voice lacked the conviction of Megan’s.

“Then don’t give up on Connor,” Megan advised. “He’ll find his way back to you. I believe that, too.”

As much as she admired the older woman and respected her opinions, Heather wished she could share Megan’s faith where Connor was concerned. So far she hadn’t seen even the tiniest chink in his well-established armor. He was dead-set against letting emotion overrule his very stubborn head, at least when it came to her.

Connor stood in the middle of his townhouse in Baltimore and wondered why it no longer felt like home. The furniture he and Heather had chosen was still in place. She’d taken nothing when she left, and yet without her the place felt empty. The kitchen cupboards were filled with dishes, the refrigerator stocked with food, albeit mostly of the frozen variety. In fact, despite her departure several months ago, Heather’s touch was everywhere, right down to the framed photos of his son scattered over just about every surface.

Heather’s glowing face beamed back at him from many of them, as well. It always made his heart catch when he caught an unexpected glimpse of her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, inside and out. Most people saw the shining blond hair, hazel eyes and delicate features and focused on those, but he knew she had the most generous heart on earth. She’d put up with him long enough to prove she was a saint.

And then she’d gone. Just like that, on Thanksgiving Day while he’d been out nursing his wounds over a glass of Irish whisky with a couple of buddies, decrying his parents’ plan to remarry, Heather had packed up their son and left. To add to his dismay, she’d dropped the baby off on his parents’ doorstep, dragging both Mick and Megan into the middle of the drama. Connor wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive her for that.

Disgruntled just by the thought of the humiliation he’d felt having to go home to Chesapeake Shores and explain himself to the mother from whom he’d been estranged for years, he poured himself another glass of Irish whisky. He went into his office hoping to push all of his sour thoughts out of his head and get some work done. Before he could cross the room, though, the doorbell rang. He opened it to find his brother Kevin standing there.

“This is an unexpected surprise,” Connor said, regarding Kevin warily. His brother wasn’t in the habit of dropping in. The last time he had, he’d found a very pregnant Heather on the scene and nearly been struck dumb by the awkward moment. He’d mostly stayed away since.

“You feel like some company?” Kevin inquired, moving aside to reveal two of their oldest friends, Will and Mack, along with Connor’s brothers-in-law, Trace Riley and Jake Collins.

Connor scowled, his worst fears confirmed. They were here on some kind of mission. It was anyone’s guess who’d put them up to it. His money was on his father.

“And if I don’t?” he asked.

“Hey, Baltimore’s a big city. I’m sure we can find someplace else to hang out,” Jake said. “I’m not wasting this chance for a guys’ night. The only reason your sister let me out of our regular date night is because Kevin told her we were coming to see you.”

Connor stared at Jake incredulously. “You let Bree tell you what you can and can’t do? Come on, man, that’s just pitiful.” It reaffirmed his low opinion of marriage as well, even if they were talking about his sister.

Jake grinned. “I let her think that’s how it works,” he corrected. “And, to be perfectly honest, this date night idea of hers has some amazing benefits, or at least it did until she got so pregnant she can barely move. She blames the huge belly, the baby’s constant kicking and the swollen ankles all on me. These days I can pretty much forget about sex.”

Connor clapped his hands over his ears. “Too much information,” he protested. He turned to Trace. “And Abby? Does she have to give you permission to go out with the guys?”

“No way,” Trace said forcefully. “However, it helps that she’s staying in Baltimore tonight herself because of work, so the subject didn’t really come up.”

“What did you do with the twins?” Connor asked, referring to Abby’s very precocious daughters who were now nine-going-on-nineteen. “They’re a little young to be left on their own.”

“They’re staying with Grandma Megan and Grandpa Mick,” Trace said. “The only drawback is that tomorrow I will once again have to explain that ice cream and candy are not the two most important food groups. I’ll have to try to convince them of that before Mommy gets home.”

“You two do have your trials, don’t you?” Connor said to his brothers-in-law with amusement. “You’re not exactly walking endorsements for marriage.”

Trace and Jake exchanged a worried look that said it all. Obviously at least some part of their mission was to convince him what a mess he was making of things with Heather.

Still, since the men were on his doorstep and he was in desperate need of company, Connor stepped aside to let them enter. “I don’t suppose any of you thought to bring food, did you? I have a freezer full of frozen dinners, but that’s about it.”

“Mack has the closest pizza place on speed dial,” Kevin assured him. “His cell phone allows him to find that in any city in the country. He may be lonely, but he’ll never starve.”

“I’m not all that lonely,” Mack retorted.

“Even though he still claims he’s not dating your cousin Susie, they seem to spend every spare minute together,” Will taunted. “I’m thinking of writing some kind of case study for a psychology journal on the whole phenomenon of delusional nondating.”

“Bite me,” Mack replied cheerfully, then took out his phone. “Pizza okay for everyone?”

“Works for me,” Connor said, then looked pointedly at his unexpected guests. “As long as it doesn’t come with a side order of meddling.”

“Absolutely not,” Kevin said solemnly.

“Agreed,” Trace said.

“No meddling with dinner,” Will said, then grinned. “We’re saving that for dessert.”

“How’d things go with Heather today?” Mick asked Megan when they met for dinner at one of the small cafés along Shore Road in the same block as her gallery.

“She’s getting settled in,” Megan told him. “I think her business is going to be wildly successful. She showed me her apartment upstairs today, too, and it’s adorable, just right for her and little Mick.”

“I still don’t understand why she wouldn’t move into the house with us,” Mick grumbled. “Little Mick’s already comfortable there. We have plenty of room.”

“And it would put the two of them right in Connor’s face every time he comes home,” Megan said. “Is that what you were hoping for?”

“Well, why not?” Mick replied testily. “If those two would spend a little more time together, they could work things out. You know it as well as I do.”

“I also know they can’t be rushed. Time apart may be the best thing for them right now.”

Mick regarded his wife with amusement. “Don’t act as if you’re not doing your share of manipulating, woman. I know all about the way you put a bug in Kevin’s ear to spend some time with Connor tonight. The way I hear it, he, Jake, Trace, Will and Mack have all been dispatched to Connor’s place to extol the joys of married life.”

Megan regarded him innocently. “Will and Mack aren’t married.”

“Maybe not, but Will’s a shrink, so he has all sorts of insights to offer, I’m sure. As for Mack, he might as well be, for all the time he’s spending with Susie these days.” He shook his head in bewilderment. “I have no idea why my brother hasn’t stepped in and taken control of that situation. It’s time for Mack to get off the dime and propose to that girl, or at least admit he’s dating her.”

“Your brother is not the natural-born meddler that you are,” Megan reminded him. “I’m sure Susie and Mack are very grateful for that.”

“There you go, sounding all superior again, when I know for a fact you’re every bit the meddler that I am,” Mick accused.

Megan laughed. “What can I say? I want all of our children to be as happy and settled as we are.”

Mick studied her face, looking for any sign of discontent. After missing too many hints of unhappiness during their first marriage, he was determined to be attuned to every nuance of their relationship this time around.

“You mean that?” he asked directly. “You’re happy?”

“Of course I am. I have everything I could possibly want. You and I are back together. I’ve opened a business I love, and it’s gotten off to a solid start. And my relationship with each of our children is getting stronger every day. What could I possibly have to complain about?”

“Maybe the fact that you never did get that honeymoon I promised you,” Mick suggested.

Megan shrugged as if having the honeymoon of her dreams was of no consequence, even though they’d only been able to afford a trip to Ocean City for a weekend when they’d first wed all those years ago.

“That’s my own fault, not yours,” she told him. “Everything started coming together for the gallery right after the first of the year. There was no time to get away.”

“And now?” he asked. “You think you could spare a little time for me?”

“The gallery’s opened. My assistant’s trained. I suppose I could get away,” she said thoughtfully, then met his gaze with a sparkle in her eyes. “I’m quite sure that wasn’t an idle question, Mick O’Brien. What did you have in mind?”

“A week in Paris,” he said at once. He pulled two tickets out of his pocket and set them on the table. “And before you get all worked up over me being presumptuous, note that they don’t have a date on them. We can go whenever you say the word.”

Megan reached for his hand. “Who could have imagined that you could still learn a thing or two at this late date?”

He laughed at that. “When the motivation’s powerful enough, a man can always learn something new. I hope Connor figures that out before it’s too late.”

Megan’s previously lighthearted mood visibly darkened at his words. “Oh, Mick, I hope so, too, but there’s only so much you and I can do to make sure that happens. The rest is up to him and Heather.”

Mick knew that, but nevertheless it went against the grain to leave something so important to chance.

“You won’t object if I do a thing or two to nudge things along, will you?” he asked.

She gave him a stern look. “Nudge all you want, but pay attention to the signs, Mick. When they’re all but shouting to back off, do it. I mean that.” She grinned at him. “And something tells me this is definitely an ideal time for me to get you out of town before you do something we’ll both regret. Make those reservations for Paris. I’ll try to keep you preoccupied over there, so Connor and Heather can have a little breathing room back here.”

“A sneaky approach,” he said approvingly, “but you’re forgetting one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m great at multitasking.”

Megan met his gaze, laughter lurking in her eyes. “Is that so?” she inquired softly as she deliberately ran her hand along the inside of his thigh. “Do you really want to bet that I can’t make you forget all about Chesapeake Shores, much less meddling?”

Mick swallowed hard. Sadly, she had a point. The good news was that they were going to have one helluva time while she set out to prove it.

2

The combined efforts of the men in his family and his friends convinced Connor to make the drive to Chesapeake Shores on Saturday. He hadn’t been home since his parents’ wedding on New Year’s Eve. Though he’d made his peace with both Mick and even Megan, things seemed to go better between them when he kept his distance. Their capacity for meddling was beyond his for resisting. They’d made their opinions of his relationship with Heather crystal clear.

The drive home had been pleasant for a change. Although the weather was especially mild for late March, it was too early for most of the tourists and weekenders who flocked to the small towns on the Chesapeake Bay later in the season.

Arriving in Chesapeake Shores to discover all the hints that spring was just around the corner, he realized how much he missed being home. This time of year the town green was edged with beds of daffodils, the salty air of the bay beckoned and there was something special about the way the morning sun filtered through a haze and sparkled on the dew that covered the fresh green lawns.

With temperatures hovering close to seventy, he actually had visions of taking his old rowboat out for a lazy day of fishing. Maybe he could even convince Kevin to come along. It had been ages since they’d spent an idle day out on the water together.

Before heading toward home, he made the drive along Main Street, then turned right onto Shore Road. It was practically a ritual to take a tour of the town his father and uncles had built, to see what was happening. There were always one or two changes that caught him by surprise, especially in spring, when most new businesses chose to open in time for the summer tourist season.

He spotted the “Open” flag fluttering outside his mother’s new art gallery and resolved to make his duty call there later in the day, since he’d missed the official opening. He was anxious to see if she was as knowledgeable about art as his father and the rest of the family seemed to think she was.

Before he drove on, Connor caught a glimpse of another new store right next door. A beautiful handmade quilt hung in the window, a quilt, he realized with a sense of shock, that looked very familiar because it—or one exactly like it—had once hung on the wall in his townhouse. It was the one thing that had gone missing after Heather’s departure.

Slamming on the brakes, he looked around until he spotted a parking place up the street. He swung into it, then tried to still the sudden racing of his heart. He knew that quilt because Heather had made it. He’d watched her in the evenings as she’d stitched every seam, quilted every square, while he’d been studying for his law school classes. He’d been captivated by the contentment on her face as she’d worked quietly, happy just to be in a room with him.

Spotting that quilt in a store window shouldn’t throw him like this, he thought as he strode across the street. It shouldn’t matter to him that she’d apparently put it up for sale. But it did.

It offended him to think that maybe she was giving it up because she needed cash. How much could a quilt bring in, anyway? He thought he’d been giving her generous support money for their son, enough for both of them really, but maybe it wasn’t covering expenses, after all. He knew, though, from their heated exchanges, that she was too proud to take more.

Worse, of course, was the idea that she was selling the quilt because she couldn’t bear to look at it anymore, because it reminded her of him. Had she grown to hate him so much? It was true that most of their conversations recently had been brief and edgy, but he’d convinced himself they’d eventually move past the cool civility of late. Maybe that was just another of his many delusions where Heather was concerned, right up there beside the idea that she would change her mind and move back home with him.

He glanced at the sign on the window, which he hadn’t noticed earlier: COTTAGE QUILTS. For some reason that struck a distant chord as well. Had Heather ever mentioned opening a shop like this one? Was it one of the dreams she’d had before setting them aside to be with him? He’d known how much she’d hated teaching, but he couldn’t recall what she’d hoped to do instead once the baby was a bit older. That just reminded him of how many conversations they’d avoided over their years together. Anything involving the future had presented a minefield.

Just then he saw and heard her, Heather, standing amid a sea of fabric with a customer, talking animatedly about which colors worked well together and which ones clashed. With a sense of shock, he realized that not only was her quilt for sale, but that she was working here. How had that happened? Filled with questions, he stood where he was, just outside the open door, and waited.

When the customer left with a heavy bag filled with fabric, Connor stepped inside. Heather looked up, a smile on her face that faltered at the sight of him.

“Connor,” she said, a catch in her voice. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Chesapeake Shores is my home,” he reminded her, his own tone testy. “What the devil are you doing here?”

She gestured around her. “What does it look like? I’ve opened a business.”

A thousand questions came to mind, but he blurted only one. “This is yours?”

She nodded, her expression defensive.

“You opened a business here? In my town?” he said incredulously.

She smiled at his reaction. “Actually if the town belongs to any one person, it would be your father, but I’m pretty sure it’s open to new residents.”

“You didn’t think you needed to tell me you’d moved here?”

“I would have as soon as we got settled. Getting this place open has taken a lot of my time.”

“Don’t tell me you’re living with my folks,” he said, regarding her with suspicion, already sensing a plot afoot to throw them together. After all, wasn’t that exactly what his mother had hinted at her wedding, that she intended to see that he was next to walk down the aisle? And it would definitely explain the unexpected visit by all the men in the family the previous weekend and their push to drag him down here.

“No. Believe me, I know that would have been a bad idea. I have my own apartment upstairs. Your mother and I …”

He frowned at the mention of his mother. “What does my mother have to do with this? Was it her idea?”

“In a way, yes,” Heather admitted at once.

“And you went along with it,” he said with a dismayed shake of his head. “Haven’t I told you she can’t be trusted?”

Heather visibly stiffened. “You told me a lot of things, Connor, all probably valid from your perspective, but I prefer to form my own opinions of people. I happen to like your mother, and even you have to admit she’s been a godsend in recent months, looking after little Mick.”

Connor bristled. “That still doesn’t mean you should take her advice. Did she tell you if you settled here, eventually I’d cave in and marry you?”

Heather frowned at him. “Trust me, I know your position on marriage, Connor. You’ve stated it often enough and in no uncertain terms. It’s ingrained in my head.”

“Then what are you doing here?” he asked again, genuinely bewildered about why she’d pick this town if not because it was his hometown.

“This decision was all about me and what I want for my future. Your mother saw my quilts and thought I had talent. When I was here for the wedding, she mentioned this space and the apartment upstairs. It seemed ideal for me, especially since it meant our son would get to be around his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. It was a far better option than going back to Ohio to be around my family, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

As rational as all that sounded, Connor couldn’t get over the fact that she’d kept this from him. “We’ve seen each other at least a half-dozen times since the wedding when you brought little Mick to spend the day with me, yet you never said a word about any of this. Why not?”

“You’ve always known exactly how to reach me on my cell phone. You haven’t missed a minute with your son. I didn’t think you’d be interested in knowing where I’m living,” she said with a shrug.

“Of course I’m interested. We’re talking about my son!” he said, his voice climbing.

He saw a bit of light die in her eyes at his words and knew he’d said exactly the wrong thing. It was a habit he’d inadvertently gotten into and couldn’t seem to break. When he should have been telling Heather he missed her, he couldn’t seem to choke out the words. The admission would have revealed a vulnerability he wasn’t prepared for her to see.

“Nothing’s changed where little Mick’s concerned,” Heather assured him, her voice tight. “You’ll still see him whenever you want to. This might not be as convenient as having us in Baltimore, but we’re hardly at the ends of the earth. Besides, other than giving him a chance to get to know his family, this move wasn’t about him, either. It was about me, and it’s been clear for some time now that I don’t matter to you. It was past time for a fresh start. Chesapeake Shores had a lot of advantages that other places wouldn’t have had. I’m sure even you can’t deny that.”

He understood why she thought she didn’t matter to him, but it annoyed him just the same. “Don’t be ridiculous. I love you. We have a son together. And what kind of fresh start is it, if you’re surrounded by my family?”

“This is where I need to be right now. Deal with it,” she said.

Her tone was surprisingly unyielding. What had happened to the accommodating woman he’d known so well? Before he could ask, she held up her hand to stop him.

“I am not having this discussion here, where a customer could come in at any moment,” she said firmly. “Please go, Connor. If you want to spend some time with your son today, he’s with your dad. I think Mick planned to take advantage of the weather and take him and his cousins Davy and Henry out on the dock by the house to fish.”

Connor wanted to stand here and argue with her, tell her that moving here, getting close to his family was a mistake, but he didn’t have the right. His stubborn refusal to take the next step and marry her had cost him the chance to have any say over her decisions beyond those directly related to their son. And how could he possibly argue that a place as serene as Chesapeake Shores with his own family all around was anything other than a perfect place to raise a child? He dropped the argument.

“Will I see you at the house later?” he asked.

“I doubt it. Shanna will bring little Mick home when she picks up Davy and Henry.”

“Tomorrow?” he pressed, not sure why he wanted to know just how deeply she’d insinuated herself into his family’s routines. “Will you be at Sunday dinner?”

She held his gaze. “Will it bother you if I am?”

“Of course not,” he said, managing to utter the lie despite a boatload of regrets. Seeing her, knowing he’d lost her, was some kind of sweet torture.

“Then we’ll see you there. Maybe we’ll have a chance to talk about how we’re going to make this work.” She gave him a hesitant smile. “Connor, I don’t want it to be awkward every time we run into each other. I really don’t.”

He sighed. “Neither do I.”

He just wasn’t sure it was possible to act as if everything between them had never mattered. Because the truth was, he’d realized months ago that she and his son were the only things in his life that did matter. He just didn’t see any way to hold on to them without betraying his core belief that most marriages were a sham and led, not to happily-ever-after but to misery.

Back at the house his father had built when he was first developing Chesapeake Shores, Connor paused long enough to throw his bag into his boyhood room, which still had his old sports posters on the walls. In the kitchen he grabbed a handful of Gram’s cookies, relieved to find that she hadn’t stopped baking, even though everyone, including her, had moved out of the main house, leaving it to his father and mother. Apparently Gram still made sure the cookie jar was stocked for visits by all of her great-grandchildren.

Crossing the wide expanse of lawn toward the bay, he could hear the laughter of children coming from the dock, followed by the low, surprisingly patient voice of his father. Stepping out onto the weathered gray boards, warmed by the midday sun, Connor stood unnoticed as his father baited hooks and helped his three grandsons cast their lines, one arm firmly around little Mick at all times. Only Henry and Davy had any real hope of reeling in a fish, but even from his spot in his grandfather’s lap, little Mick dangled his line into the calm waters of the bay, chattering happily to himself in nonsensical words, to which Mick replied as if he could understand him perfectly.

“I wish I had a camera,” Connor said quietly, causing Mick to glance up with a broad smile. “I can’t recall a time you ever spent the day fishing with me and Kevin.”

Mick’s smile faded at the barb. “You’re probably right. And it was my loss. I thank God every day that I have another chance with these boys.”

Up until now Davy and Henry had been totally absorbed with watching the water for some evidence that fish were nearby. When they looked up and spotted Connor, grins broke across their faces. Here was the uncle who was more grown-up playmate than authority figure.

“Uncle Connor, sit with us,” Davy pleaded. “You can put the worms on my line.”

“Big boys put their own bait on the hooks,” Mick told him firmly. “I just showed you how to do it.”

Davy wrinkled his nose. “But it’s yucky.”

Connor grinned. “That it is. Give me a minute with your granddad and little Mick, then I’ll come help you.”

While listening to the exchange, Mick studied Connor curiously. “What brings you home? Were we expecting you?”

“Do I need to make a reservation these days?” Connor asked defensively. For a time he’d been banished from his home for trying to interfere in his father’s plan to wed his mother again, but he’d thought his exile was in the past. In fact, he’d even moved in for a time when Heather had left his son here for several weeks. He’d commuted to work in Baltimore during that time.

“Of course you don’t need a reservation,” Mick said impatiently. “You just haven’t come back here since the wedding. Or should I say since Heather took your boy to be with her?”

“I was persuaded that I was overdue for a visit,” Connor admitted wryly.

Mick chuckled. “Then the mission was a success. You can thank your mother for pulling that together.”

Connor frowned. “Mom sent Kevin and the others to Baltimore? I’d figured you were behind it.”

“Not this time. It was your mother who planted a few seeds here and there,” Mick admitted.

“I suppose it was all about getting me down here so I could discover that Heather’s living in town with my son.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Mick agreed.

Connor directed a sour look at his father. “It’s not going to work, you know.”

Mick reached over to put another worm on Davy’s hook when he saw the boy struggling with it, then glanced up at Connor. “What’s not going to work?”

“Throwing Heather and me together. We’re not getting married.”

Mick shrugged. “Up to you, though it seems a shame for this boy of yours not to have a full-time daddy in his life.” He frowned at Connor. “And before you say a word, I may have been gone too much, but I was a full-time father, and all of you knew it.”

Back on the defensive, Connor said, “My son knows I love him.”

“How’s he supposed to know a thing like that when he never sees you?”

“I see him all the time,” Connor said. “Heather brought him for a visit just last week.”

“For an hour or two, I’ll bet,” Mick scoffed. “What kind of parenting is that?”

“He’s little more than a year old,” Connor protested. “Right now he needs his mother more than he needs me. When he’s a little older, he’ll spend more time with me.”

“And he’ll still grow up to complain that he hardly knew his daddy,” Mick said, then held up a hand to forestall Connor’s retort. “Pot calling the kettle black, I know, but that makes me the voice of experience. Don’t let these precious years pass by without being a part of them. Learn from my mistakes.”

Connor considered another quick, heated comeback, but instead dropped down onto the dock next to little Mick. “Hey, buddy, catch anything?”

His son gave him a wide grin and happily waved his tiny fishing rod in the air. He crawled off Mick’s lap to lean into Connor’s side, snuggling close, and reminding Connor in ways that Mick’s words never could, of just what his stubbornness was costing him.

When the quilt shop had emptied of customers around lunchtime, Heather called next door and reached Megan. “Do you have a minute?”

“Jane’s about to go pick up a couple of sandwiches, so I can’t leave just now. What’s going on?”

“Could you just meet me out front? We’ll both be able to see if any customers come this way.”

“Sure. Do you want Jane to bring back something for you, too?”

Food was the last thing on Heather’s mind. All she’d been able to think about for the past hour was Connor’s unexpected appearance earlier.

“If she’s going to Sally’s, have her bring me back a tuna fish sandwich on a croissant,” she said eventually. “I’ll bring the money outside with me now.”

“Will do. See you in a minute,” Megan promised.

One of the improvements the town had made along Main Street and Shore Road had been to add benches in front of many of the shops. It allowed weary shoppers to rest for a few minutes, but even more essential, it allowed bored husbands to relax outside, instead of pacing around casting daunting looks that cut short their wives’ shopping sprees.

Though the sun was warm, the breeze off the bay was cool. Heather pulled on a sweater, then sat outside to wait for Megan. When Connor’s mother joined her, she sighed as she sat down.

“This feels so good,” Megan said. “I’ve been on my feet all morning. I shouldn’t complain, because that means business has been good. How about you? Were you busy?”

“Swamped,” Heather said. “Mostly lookers, but I did have a couple of nice sales.”

Megan regarded her intently. “Then why don’t you look happier?”

“Connor’s here,” she announced, watching Megan closely for a reaction.

“Really? He didn’t let any of us know he was coming.”

“But you knew he might be coming home, didn’t you? You don’t sound all that surprised.”

Megan shrugged. “I hoped he’d be home soon, of course, but I didn’t know his plans.”

Heather still didn’t believe Megan was as clueless as she was pretending to be. “Why didn’t you warn me? He walked in here this morning, spoiling for a fight. I’m not even sure how he knew this shop was mine, since you said you hadn’t told him.”

“I hadn’t said a word,” Megan reiterated. “He might have recognized the quilt in the window. Didn’t you tell me it used to hang on the wall in your apartment?”

Heather couldn’t believe Connor had paid that much attention to the quilt she’d made. When she’d worked on it in the evenings, his head had mostly been buried in law books. He’d barely even commented when she’d hung it in their townhouse.

“I suppose it’s possible,” she conceded slowly. “Are you sure you didn’t let something slip about the shop?”

“I told you I wouldn’t,” Megan said, clearly not taking offense at the question. “But I did warn you he was bound to find out about it sooner or later. Is he upset?”

Heather nodded. “I’m not entirely sure if it’s because it caught him off guard or because I’m here in his town.”

“Probably a little of both,” Megan assessed. “Did you talk?”

“Not really. I didn’t want to get into anything here when a customer could walk in at any second. We agreed we’d talk some more when I bring little Mick over for dinner tomorrow.”

The look of satisfaction in Megan’s eye suggested she’d been hoping for exactly that. Heather studied her suspiciously. “Are you sure you didn’t have anything to do with luring him down here this weekend?”

“I can honestly say that I haven’t spoken to him in days,” Megan said.

“I think there’s a loophole in there somewhere, but I swear I can’t spot it,” Heather said with regret. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter what Connor’s doing here. Like you said, he was bound to turn up sooner or later. I guess I’d just been hoping for later. I’m not quite ready to go head-to-head with him. I’m still feeling my way with this new life of mine. I might not be strong enough to defend every decision.”

“Of course you are,” Megan said. “You’ve started a whole new life for yourself and your son. You can handle anything Connor dishes out. You were strong enough to walk away, after all. That took courage, Heather, especially when your heart wanted you to stay.”

“I only did it because I felt I didn’t have any other choice. Your son is a very smooth talker. If he puts his mind to it, he can destroy all of my rational reasons for being here and convince me I belong with him.”

Megan regarded her curiously. “Are you really worried that he’ll talk you into something you don’t want to do?” she asked, then added gently, “Or that he won’t try at all?”

Heather sat back with a heartfelt sigh. There it was, the undeniable truth. As smart as she knew her decision to move out and leave Connor had been, a part of her still desperately wanted him to fight to get her back. If he didn’t, the part of her heart that wasn’t already broken would finally shatter.

Connor’s plan to take his rowboat out for the afternoon had pretty much gone up in smoke when he’d discovered Heather was now living in town and his son was hanging out with his grandfather.

When little Mick tired of being outside with his cousins, Connor scooped him up and headed for the house. “I’ll make some sandwiches, Dad. Will you and the boys be up soon?”

“A half hour,” Mick said. “Then we’re all going to take naps, right, boys?”

Henry regarded him with a serious look that puckered his brow. “I don’t take naps anymore, Grandpa Mick.”

“Me, either,” Davy chimed in.

“Well, I do,” Mick said.

“So does your cousin,” Connor told the boys. “If you’re not sleepy after lunch, I’ll play a game with you, okay?”

“Henry’ll beat you,” Davy boasted of his older stepbrother. “He’s good at games.”

Connor laughed. “Then I’ll need to be very careful which game I pick to play. I hold the record at some of them.”

Mick shook his head. “Are you still that competitive kid who hated having anyone beat you at anything?” he asked Connor.

“Sure am,” Connor replied, giving him a wink. “See you at the house.”

An hour later Connor had fed the kids, then sent both his son and Mick off for naps before settling down in the den with Davy and Henry. Despite his protests, Davy fell asleep before he could even get the video system set up. Connor carried him upstairs, returned, then turned to Henry.

“You sure you wouldn’t rather rest for a while?” he asked him.

Henry regarded him eagerly. “I’d rather play,” he said at once. “Davy’s not much competition, and Grandpa Mick and Kevin don’t really understand how the game works.”

Connor made a big show of sizing him up. “You any good?”

“Really good,” Henry said in a rare show of confidence from a boy just starting to find his place in his new family.

“Want to place a little bet on the outcome?” Connor taunted. “You win, I’ll take you into town for ice cream. I win, you treat.”

“Don’t do it,” Kevin said, wandering in with a handful of cookies just in time to overhear. “Your uncle Connor cheats.”

Connor turned on his brother indignantly. “I most certainly do not. If anyone cheats, it’s you, big brother.”

“Since when?” Kevin said, snatching up the remote.

Behind them Henry giggled. “You guys are crazy.”

Kevin grinned at his stepson. “You are not the first to notice that, my boy. How about you and me team up against this hotshot? I think we can take him.”

Henry nodded eagerly. “Awesome!”

“That doesn’t strike me as fair,” Connor said, “but bring it on.”

An hour later, he’d destroyed the two of them. He regarded Kevin with satisfaction. “Who’s crying now? I see a double hot fudge sundae in my future.”

“Okay, okay, we bow to your superior expertise,” Kevin said, winking at Henry. “Why don’t you run upstairs and see if Davy’s awake? We should probably get home.” He glanced at Connor. “I was supposed to take little Mick back to Heather, but I assume you’d rather do that yourself.” He studied him pointedly. “Or am I wrong?”

“I’ll take him,” Connor said, his voice suddenly tight as he scowled at his brother. “So, you knew when you came to Baltimore the other night that Heather and little Mick were living here in town?”

“Guilty,” Kevin said.

“Yet you saw no need to mention it,” Connor said accusingly.

“Hey, all of this is between the two of you. The rest of us are innocent bystanders.”

“Innocent, my behind,” Connor said. “Since when has any O’Brien ever stood on the sidelines when it comes to stuff like this? You’re all a bunch of meddlers.”

Kevin didn’t even attempt to deny it. “You know now—isn’t that what counts? Well, that and what you’re going to do about it. Any idea about that?”

Connor sighed. “Not a clue.”

Kevin’s expression brightened. “I have a thought or two.”

“Says the man who was not meddling,” Connor said. “Forget it, big brother. Keep your ideas to yourself. If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it. You might circulate that message to the rest of the family, as well.”

Kevin laughed. “You have to be kidding. You said it yourself, meddling is the family hobby. The only way you’re going to deal with Heather in private is if the two of you move cross-country.”

Connor thought of the shop Heather had just opened. It was as cozy and welcoming as their home had once been. He doubted she’d be open to abandoning it, and he was in no position to make such a suggestion anyway. What could he offer her except more of the same? Sadly, all of his vows came with conditions, conditions she could no longer accept.

And that meant they were at a stalemate, with no obvious solution in sight.