Driftwood Cottage

4

Thomas O’Brien wasn’t sure what had drawn him home to Chesapeake Shores, especially on such a dreary Sunday morning. Usually he confined his trips to the holidays and the occasional visit to his mother. Now that Nell was in her eighties, he tried to make those visits more frequently, but usually at a time when he wouldn’t have to deal with his brother Mick and the rest of the family. He and Mick could pick a fight in ten seconds flat on their best days. On their worst, they barely managed to exchange a civil word. Lately things were better, but he didn’t like pressing his luck.

Despite that concern, when he’d awakened this morning in his cramped apartment in Annapolis, Thomas had wanted to go home. Lately, he’d been feeling especially restless. His work with the foundation that studied the bay’s environment was frustrating and time-consuming, but his passion for it hadn’t waned. Most of the time, it was rewarding enough to keep him going through any rough patches. Usually it even filled the tremendous gaps in his social life since his last divorce.

Recently, though, he couldn’t help recognizing that something was missing from his life. In fact, every time he spent a few hours around Mick, now that Mick and Megan were back together, he could easily pin a label on it. He wanted a family of his own. Hanging around his older brothers—Mick and even Jeff and his family—reminded him of all that he’d missed out on while focusing on work. Both of his marriages had been so brief that he’d never considered children, and he was feeling that lack now more than ever before.

In truth, though he was only in his early fifties, he’d blown both marriages due to his obsession with environmental issues and protecting the bay that he loved. Lately, other than having an occasional drink with a coworker or one of the volunteers working on the foundation’s fundraising efforts, his personal life was deader than the bay’s waters had been a few years back. Now the ecosystem was slowly coming back into balance, but his life wasn’t.

When he knocked on Mick’s door, it was Megan who answered. She beamed at him and immediately dragged him inside.

“Get in here out of that nasty weather,” she said at once, her expression welcoming.

“You have room for one more at the table today?” he asked, lifting his sister-in-law off the floor in a bear hug.

“We always have room for you,” she assured him. “Why didn’t you call and let us know you were coming?” She grinned. “Or do I need to ask? Were you afraid Mick would tell you to stay away?”

Thomas laughed. “He can’t scare me away anymore. With our mother and you around, and Kevin working for me, I have allies here.”

“You certainly do,” Megan said. “Now come in. We’re just about to sit down, so your timing’s perfect.”

“Maybe I’d better find Mick first, so he doesn’t keel over in Ma’s pot roast at the sight of me.” He regarded her hopefully. “That is what we’re having, right? I thought I sniffed it in the air when you opened the door.”

“It is, indeed. Mick’s in the den. Go on in, while I start rounding up everyone else. That can take awhile when the kids are absorbed in one of those video games they seem to love.”

Thomas wandered down the hall to his brother’s den. He found Mick behind a closed door, puffing on a pipe.

“If Ma catches you in here with that thing, she’ll have a fit,” he taunted as he walked in. “She only put up with Pop smoking a pipe because she never could deny him anything. He always claimed it reminded him of being back in Ireland.”

“It does the same for me. It reminds me of the trips they took us on,” Mick said, while regarding him with surprise. “What brings you down here? You usually don’t show your face except on holidays.”

“Only time I know for a fact I’m welcome,” Thomas admitted. “Is it okay? Do you think you and I can be civil today?”

Mick shrugged. “That’s always an iffy proposition, but I think we’ve done a pretty good job of mending fences recently. You were there when I needed you when I was trying to get Megan to marry me again. I won’t forget that.”

“Of course you haven’t forgotten all of my sins from the past, either, have you?” Thomas said, referring to the fact that he’d taken the drastic step of turning Mick in to the authorities when he’d wanted to take some shortcuts in protecting the environment back when all three of them—he, Mick and Jeff—had been developing Chesapeake Shores.

“You’re right. I’m not likely to forget that,” Mick said. “But the truth is, now that I’ve had time to think things through, I admire the way you stood up for what you believed in, even if it was a darned nuisance at the time.”

Thomas stared at him incredulously. “You mean that?”

“I do, but I’ll call you a liar if you repeat it. The family enjoys thinking we’re at odds.”

“O’Briens do seem to enjoy their little feuds, don’t they?” Thomas agreed. “Have you seen Jeff lately?”

“Here and there around town. We’re not sitting around sipping coffee at Sally’s, if that’s what you’re asking. And he does manage our properties in the business district, though most of the time when I have questions about that, I ask his daughter. Susie’s a smart girl.”

“She is, indeed,” Thomas concurred. “Think she’ll ever marry that young man who claims he’s not dating her?”

“That’s a puzzler,” Mick said. “I’d have had them in church by now, but Jeff seems to be oblivious to the situation.” He gave Thomas a quizzical look. “So, why are you here? You didn’t come for a sparring match with me, did you? Was Ma’s pot roast the lure?”

“Truth be told, I was lonely,” Thomas admitted. “But if you tell anyone that, I’ll call you the liar.”

Mick’s expression registered surprise. “I’ve never heard you say such a thing before. What’s going on?”

“I woke up this morning and realized there wasn’t a single person in my life who cared what I was up to today,” he admitted with rare candor. “I hope you know how lucky you are.”

“Believe me, I know I’m blessed,” Mick said, eyeing him worriedly. “What you need is a woman in your life, maybe even kids. You’re not too old to have it all, if that’s what you want. I thought you were happily married to your work. Your wives certainly thought that, too.”

“It’s true. There’s no question that I sacrificed two good women to spend all my time with it,” Thomas lamented. “That doesn’t mean I don’t miss having a person to confide in, someone to share my bed or a laugh at the end of the day. You must have missed that when Megan was gone.”

“No question about it,” Mick agreed. “Neither of your ex-wives had remarried last I heard. Give ‘em a call.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s a rare thing to be able to go back again. You and Megan have pulled it off, and believe me, I envy you for that, but it won’t work for me. Those ties are good and broken. My own fault, too.”

“Well, surely there are available women in Annapolis who’d jump at the chance to go out with you. You’ve a successful career. And you have those handsome O’Brien genes, so you’re not too hard on the eyes. If you need a little coaching when it comes to charm, I could give you a few tips.”

Thomas laughed. “Charm is not my problem. Neither is a lack of abundance of available women.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I just haven’t found the right one,” he told his brother. “And since she’s unlikely to be sitting at your dining room table, we should probably let this drop for now. Ma’s pot roast and your family’s company will be enough to console me for one more day. Thanks for not tossing me back out your door.”

Mick threw an arm around his shoulder as they left the den. “Ma wouldn’t allow it,” he said. “And if it comes down to it, I wouldn’t want to try.”

Thomas savored the rare moment of peace between them. Coming here today had been the best decision he’d made in a while, even if it meant going home knowing just how much his own life was lacking.

Somehow Heather had ended up at the dining room table sandwiched between Connor and Mick, who’d ceded his usual spot at the head of the table to his brother Thomas. She cast a desperate look across the table in Shanna’s direction, but Kevin’s wife only grinned. Next to her, Connor squirmed, which proved he was no more comfortable about the situation than she was.

Mick passed her a plate of home-baked yeast rolls, the kind few people bothered to make anymore.

“Have two,” he encouraged her. “You need to put on a couple of pounds. Chasing after that son of yours requires stamina.”

“Heather looks just fine, Dad,” Connor contradicted. “Leave her alone.”

“I’m just saying, she should keep up her strength, especially when she doesn’t have a man around to help her out,” Mick countered.

“Lots of single women manage careers and kids just fine,” Heather said, but neither man paid a bit of attention. They scowled at each other over her head.

“You making ends meet with your shop?” Mick asked.

Heather flushed. “It’s doing better each week.”

“You need to speak up if you need anything,” Mick said. “I’ll see that you have it. You’re part of this family now, even if your name’s not O’Brien. That boy of yours has O’Brien blood.”

Connor started to rise out of his chair, but a warning glance from his grandmother had him sitting back down. “Dad,” he said tightly, “if Heather and little Mick need anything, I’ll take care of it. They’re not your concern.”

Mick scowled at him. “Family’s family,” he responded flatly. “No matter how they came to be that way.”

Sensing that an explosion was just seconds away, Heather looked from one man to the other. “My son and I are just fine. If we need help from anyone, I know how to ask for it. Now, why don’t we enjoy this meal that Nell has made. The pot roast is delicious.”

“It is, indeed,” Thomas chimed in enthusiastically. “Ma, you still make the best pot roast I’ve ever tasted.”

“And I want you to teach me, Gram,” Bree said. “Jake says I’m a disaster in the kitchen.”

“You don’t have any patience,” Nell told her. “And it’ll only get worse once you have that baby you’re carrying. You won’t have two seconds to concentrate on the meal you’re preparing.”

“Now that’s discouraging,” Jake said with an exaggerated groan.

Nell gave him a chiding look. “Stop your complaining. That baby is yours, young man. And I’ll see to it the two of you don’t starve to death, the same way I did around here when Megan had her hands full with all of you.”

Bree grinned. “Thanks, Gram.”

Abby had listened to the exchange quietly, then turned to her grandmother. “You haven’t offered to set foot in my kitchen,” she said, feigning a pout. “I’m a working mother, too.”

“With a husband who works at home,” Gram said. “And a nanny.” She wagged a finger at the rest of them. “Don’t any of you be getting ideas about this. I’m not providing meals on wheels at this stage of my life. One of these days, I expect somebody to take over these Sunday dinners as well.”

Heather laughed at the audible groans from around the table.

“Please don’t let it be Mom,” Kevin pleaded.

Megan looked up at the comment, chuckling. “Little chance of that, I assure you. Like Bree, I can probably keep us from starving, and maybe not even poison anybody along the way, but it won’t be anything like Nell’s meals. I vote we nominate and train someone else.” She turned her gaze to Kevin. “Didn’t you have to prepare meals for a crowd when you were an EMT? There’s nothing that says a man can’t take over these family meals, right?”

Kevin looked a little pale. “Now, hold on here,” he began, but Shanna was already nodding. “He makes a terrific spaghetti and meatballs, and his lasagna’s not bad, either.”

Mick scowled at his older son. “Where’d you learn to cook, boy? At the Gianellis’? You didn’t learn Italian cooking from Ma, I guarantee that.”

“Hey, you put me in the kitchen, you eat what I know how to cook,” Kevin retorted.

Heather chuckled at the exchange. There was something about this family that never failed to enchant her. Growing up as an only child, she’d envisioned scenes just like this one. And here she was, in the middle of one of them … yet not quite a part of it.

She risked a glance toward Connor and saw that he was studying her, sympathy in his eyes. He knew how much she’d wanted this, understood what moments like this meant to her. And yet he’d still denied her the right to claim this family as her own. Even if they’d stayed together on his terms, she’d have felt like an outsider here, no matter how welcoming everyone tried to be.

Suddenly fighting tears, she pushed back her chair, murmured an excuse, then fled the dining room.

Grabbing her coat from the hall closet, she went outside and ran across the yard, oblivious to the rain. Standing on the edge of the cliff, she studied the pounding white-caps on the normally placid bay. The tumult matched the feelings roiling inside of her.

“Heather?”

Connor, of course. She turned to find him holding her scarf, her gloves and an umbrella. It was almost enough to put a smile back on her face. Almost, but not quite.

“You should come back inside,” he said, a worried frown on his face.

She shook her head. She didn’t want to face the curious stares or the unspoken questions about what had upset her. She saw the same puzzlement on Connor’s face, even though he should have known exactly what sent her running from the house.

“Want me to drive you home?” he asked. “I can bring the baby back later.”

She regarded him gratefully. “Would you mind?”

“If that’s what you really want, I’ll be happy to take you.”

“It’s what I want,” she said at once.

“Okay, then,” he said, though he looked vaguely disappointed.

He led the way to his car, settled her inside, then turned on the heater. It was mostly a wasted effort, since they’d be at her apartment before it warmed up much. They rode in silence for the few minutes it took to reach the alley that ran behind the shops and apartments.

“I’m sorry,” he said as she was about to open the door.

She paused and met his gaze. “For?”

He seemed to be struggling to find the words. “I know how badly you wanted to be part of a big family. It must be hard to be there in the middle of mine.”

She nodded. “It just makes me think about what could have been, that’s all. Don’t blame yourself. It’s not as if you dangled some promise in front of me and then yanked it away.”

He shook his head. “But in a way, that’s exactly what I did, and I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

Heather sighed. “I know that. Sometimes things just happen. I should go inside, and you need to get back. Please apologize to everyone for me.”

“No apology necessary. I’ll see you in a couple of hours, okay? I’ll wait till after the baby has his nap before I bring him home. That way you’ll have time to get some rest, too.”

“I’ll probably go downstairs,” she said. “I need to catch up on some things in the shop.”

“You need rest more,” he said.

“Looking after me isn’t your job any longer,” she told him, trying to protect herself from the way his caring made her feel. It might be an illusion, but she felt cherished.

He shrugged. “I can’t help it. Old habits are hard to break. I’ll bring some leftovers when I come. You barely touched your meal, and you completely missed dessert. Word is it’s Gram’s apple pie. There’s none better. I’ll bring you a slice.”

She chuckled. “You’re no better than your dad, you know. You’re trying to fatten me up.”

Connor winced at the comparison, then shrugged it off. “I’m bringing the pie, and I’m going to sit right here while you eat every bite. You’ll thank me later.”

The temptation to slide over and kiss him was suddenly so overwhelming, Heather forced herself to throw open the car door and bolt without responding. Only after she was upstairs in her apartment, with the door safely locked behind her, did she release the breath she’d been holding.

Heaven help her! When an O’Brien turned on the charm and showed his soft, caring side, what mortal woman could possibly resist? And yet somehow, she knew she had to. Her future depended on it.

When Connor had seen Heather standing on the edge of the cliff with rain soaking her, he’d wanted desperately to sweep her into his arms and carry her into the house, into his bed and spend the rest of the afternoon warming her up with his body heat. He’d settled for handing her gloves and scarf to her and holding an umbrella over her head because he’d known she would allow no more. Her wary gaze had been a warning to tread carefully.

Driving away from her apartment just now, knowing she was upset and that he was responsible, had been just as hard.

But neither of those things prepared him for walking back into his house and facing down the judgmental stares of his entire family.

“Where’s Heather?” Megan asked, her expression filled with concern.

“I drove her home,” he told his mother. “She apologizes for running out. She wasn’t feeling well.”

“Feeling left out, more than likely,” Mick said, showing surprising insight for a man who was usually oblivious to subtleties.

From across the table, Abby scowled at him. “Connor, I just don’t understand why you’re being so pigheaded. Anyone can see that you love this woman.”

“I do,” he agreed readily. “It’s not enough.”

“Well, of course it’s not,” Mick said with undisguised disgust. “She had your baby. She has a right to expect you to make an honest woman of her. That’s what I expect from you, too.” He frowned at Connor. “And I don’t want to hear any more of this garbage about not believing in marriage.”

“Well, I don’t,” Connor said belligerently, turning to the rest of his family. “No offense intended to those of you who do. You get to live your lives the way you want to. Show me the same courtesy.”

“Even if your stance is costing you the woman you claim to love and your son?” Thomas asked mildly. “Everyone here just wants to see you happy. If you can tell us that you are, then God bless.”

“Well?” Mick prodded, picking up where Thomas had left off. “Let’s hear how happy you are.”

Connor remained stubbornly silent. Only the knowledge that bolting from the room would be an act of cowardice kept him in place.

“Enough,” his grandmother said. “Connor has to find his own way, the same as the rest of you have. Megan, Jess, why don’t you clear the table, and I’ll bring out the pie and ice cream.”

Relieved to have a reprieve, Connor sighed. Kevin gave him an amused look.

“You don’t actually think you’re off the hook, do you?” his big brother asked.

“I was hoping,” Connor admitted.

“Not likely,” Trace told him.

“In fact, something tells me the crowd’s just getting warmed up,” Jake added.

Sensing unity, Mick gave him a benevolent look. “You won’t win this one, Connor. Marry the woman.”

“Even if I think marriage inevitably leads to heartache?” he asked. “Even though I see proof of that every single day?” He turned to his uncle. “What about you? Back me up here. You’ve divorced twice. You know a piece of paper doesn’t guarantee anything.”

Thomas gave him a pitying look. “Being married was the happiest time of my life. I loved both of my wives. You won’t find me arguing against the potential joy of marriage. When it works, it’s worth every bit of struggle it takes to get it right.”

“And yet, here you are, with us on a Sunday afternoon,” Connor retorted.

“And I’d give anything to have it otherwise,” Thomas said. “I’d go back to either one of my wives, if they’d have me, but sadly I burned those bridges. If the opportunity arises and I find another woman to love, it won’t take me but a minute to take that walk down the aisle again.”

“Don’t say that in front of Gram,” Kevin warned. “You know how she feels about divorce because of the church. In her eyes, Dad and Mom were never divorced in the first place, so that wedding they had back on New Year’s Eve was nothing but a renewal of vows. She’s probably lighting candles right and left for you after two divorces.”