Driftwood Cottage

by Sherryl Woods

  “What brings you here in the middle of the week?” she inquired as he crossed the lawn. “Not that I’m not delighted to see you. I’m just surprised.”

  “You can’t be too surprised,” he said, settling into a rocking chair beside hers. “The entire town seems to be in on the secret that I’m moving home.”

  “Today?” she asked, stunned.

  “No time like the present,” he said wryly. “That seemed to be the general consensus yesterday around my law firm, anyway.”

  She regarded him with shock. “They kicked you out?”

  He smiled at that. “Since I’d just quit, I don’t think you could say that, but they were surprisingly eager to have me gone.”

  “Well, that hardly seems fair after all the hard work you’d done for them,” she said indignantly. “What kind of people are they?”

  “Greedy and self-protective,” he assessed. “I think they were afraid I’d sneak off with all my clients if they gave me a chance to speak to any of them.”

  “That’s absurd. You’re an honorable man.”

  He laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. The truth is, I felt an amazing sense of freedom when I walked out the door for the last time yesterday. I figured I might as well load up my car with a few things this morning and head on down here.” He turned to her. “Will you and Dad mind if I stay at the house for a while?”

  “Of course not,” she said, her expression brightening. “I’d love it.”

  “And Dad?”

  “Your father always loves having any of you underfoot. He likes to have someone other than me he can boss around.”

  Connor regarded her with surprise. “Dad bosses you around?”

  She laughed. “He tries. Occasionally I even let him think he’s getting away with it.”

  Connor fell silent. “Can I ask you something?” he said after a while.

  “Of course.”

  “How do you all do it?”

  She regarded him with puzzlement. “Do what?”

  “Make a marriage work, especially after letting it fall apart the first time.”

  Megan sighed. “Oh, Connor, there’s not a magic formula. I think your father and I both learned a lot from the mistakes we made during all those years we were married. I learned that I need to speak up if I want something. For way too long I expected your father to know I was unhappy without telling him what needed to change. Men aren’t mind readers. None of us are, for that matter. He needed to see that his compulsive drive to support his family, combined with a healthy level of ambition, was costing him too much time away from the very family he cared about. We needed to figure out the kind of balance and compromise that makes a marriage work.”

  She met his gaze. “And just so you know, every couple is different. The need for compromise, however, is universal.”

  “But you really believe it’s going to work this time?” he asked, a surprisingly wistful note in his voice.

  “Not without hard work, but yes, I think it will work this time. We never stopped loving each other, you know. We just lost sight of that because of all the other things going on. I felt abandoned and overwhelmed. Instead of explaining that, though, I let the frustration build until the only thing left seemed to be divorce. I see now that it was a drastic and very foolish attempt to get your father’s attention, but once I set off down that path, it was too late to turn back.”

  Connor stared at her with shock. “You didn’t really want the divorce?”

  “Not if I’m being totally honest,” she said. “In the end, I think it worked out for the best, but it came at a huge cost. I lost all of my children because of it. I’m still trying to win you all back. I thank God every day that I’m getting a second chance.”

  She studied him for several minutes. “You seem especially introspective today. Is it because of the job or does it have something to do with your feelings for Heather?”

  “It’s Heather, actually.”

  Megan was surprised. She hadn’t expected him to admit it.

  “I love her,” he said quietly.

  “I know that.”

  He gave her an imploring look. “Then tell me why I can’t give her the one thing she wants?”

  “Because you’re not ready,” she said candidly, regretting that he was struggling so hard to deal with so many contradictory feelings. She patted his hand. “But you will be. Moving home was the first step. I predict you and Heather will find your way back to each other, and when you do, it will be right for both of you.”

  “You believe that even though we’ve done exactly what you said you and Dad did, taking stances from which it’s all but impossible to retreat?”

  “But we did retreat,” she reminded him, then smiled. “Eventually.”

  “Were you always such an optimist?” he inquired, sounding amused.

  She took his question seriously. “Not always. I gave up on your father, didn’t I?” She shrugged. “These days—yes, I believe in happy endings. Now go on inside and get settled. I’ll fix your favorite dinner for tonight. Why don’t you invite Heather and your son to join us? We can celebrate the start of a whole new chapter in your life.”

  He gave her a curious look. “What’s my favorite meal?”

  “Spaghetti and meatballs,” she said at once, then grinned. “You didn’t think I knew that, did you?”

  “Not really,” he admitted.

  “You’d be surprised by how much I remember about each one of you, Connor. Maybe one of these days, you’ll learn to trust that I never stopped caring about you.”

  “Maybe I will,” he said. Then, looking vaguely uncomfortable at the rare moment of intimacy between them, he bounded off the porch and went to his car to unload his things.

  Megan watched for a moment, then sighed. One step at a time, she reminded herself. And having Connor back here, under the same roof, was going to give her the time she desperately needed to make things right with her younger son.

  Heather was startled to see Connor walking into the shop in midafternoon on a Tuesday. “This is a surprise,” she told him.

  “You sound just like Mom. I am obviously way too predictable.”

  “As a matter of fact, you are,” she said. “What’s going on?”

  “Long story short, the firm wasn’t happy about my decision to leave, so they suggested I take off now, rather than after the two weeks or longer I was willing to give them to wrap up my cases.”

  “Jerks,” she said succinctly. “I always told you Grayson wasn’t half the man you thought he was.”

  “I get why they did it,” he admitted. “And it’s probably for the best. I can get started down here that much sooner. Joshua Porter was thrilled when I stopped by there to fill him in on my way over here. He’d have me start tomorrow morning, if I agreed to it.”

  “Will you?”

  “I think I’ll use the rest of this week to haul my stuff down to the house and get the townhouse on the market, then start next Monday.”

  “Makes sense. Did you want to take little Mick back to the house with you tonight?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking surprisingly uncomfortable. “Actually, I came to invite you both over for dinner. Mom’s making spaghetti and meatballs.”

  Heather’s eyes widened. “Your favorite. I’ll bet hers is a whole lot better than mine ever was.”

  He laughed. “Not touching that one,” he said. “So, will you come? I think she wants it to be a quiet celebration. Just us, not the whole family.”

  Heather hesitated, but in the end she couldn’t resist. “Sure, why not? What time?”

  “Early, because of little Mick. How about six-thirty? You close here at six, right?”

  “That’ll work. Shall I bring anything?”

  “Just your protective armor,” he said wryly. “I’m sure Dad will be at his matchmaking best.”

  “I can handle your father,” she said bravely. Connor was the one to whom she had no immunity.

&nb
sp; He laughed. “That’s what you think. He’s been subtle up to now. With me moving back here, I’m anticipating a full-court press.”

  She studied him with a narrowed gaze. “Are you trying to warn me away?”

  “No, indeed. Just alerting you to the danger. Don’t count on Mom protecting you, either. She’s almost as bad as he is.”

  “Your mother and I have an understanding,” she said confidently.

  Connor laughed. “Don’t count on it. She’s been lulling you into a false sense of complacency. I’m just discovering that she’s almost as much of a master manipulator as Dad is.”

  “Then I suppose we’re in for an interesting test of wills,” Heather said. Oddly enough, she realized she was looking forward to it.

  And that was probably a huge mistake.

  Connor had been wrong about it being a quiet evening. When he got back to the house, Gram was in the kitchen with his mother, his nieces were in the den with his dad, and everyone else started turning up one or two at a time until the place was chaotic. Though he was momentarily thrown, he realized this was one of the benefits of moving back home. He’d missed these impromptu gatherings, and now they’d be a regular part of his life again. Before, he’d been the visiting brother or uncle. Now he was in the thick of things again.

  “What time will Heather be here?” his mother asked.

  “Six-thirty,” Connor told her, only to have Trace give him an amused look.

  “Not wasting any time, are you?”

  “Meaning?”

  “Just that things should always start the way you intend them to continue. Draw Heather into the fold from the get-go.”

  “Inviting her was Mom’s idea,” Connor told his brother-in-law.

  Trace merely laughed. “It might have been her idea, but you obviously made no attempt to talk her out of it. In fact, you’re the one who issued the actual invitation, am I right?”

  “Yes,” Connor said, then scowled. “What’s your point?”

  “Everyone in this family seems to see the handwriting on the wall except you,” Trace explained patiently. “Have you even admitted that you’re making this move because you can’t live without her?”

  “I’m making this move because I want a different kind of lifestyle,” Connor insisted. “I want to live in a small, friendly community again. I want to be around my family, though right at this moment, I have to wonder why.”

  Trace laughed, then glanced toward the door as Heather walked in with little Mick. Connor followed the direction of his gaze and couldn’t seem to tear his own gaze away. Just a glimpse of her was enough to take his breath away. Apparently she caught him staring, because the smile on her face died.

  “I rest my case,” Trace said, nudging him in the ribs to get his attention. “You’re a goner, man. Admit it and get on with your life.”

  “I’ve never denied being crazy about her,” Connor said defensively as he watched her mingling with his family. And then she moved on to somewhere beyond his view.

  Trace rolled his eyes. “Marriage is just a piece of paper, right? How many times have we all heard you say that? If it’s so damned insignificant, then why are you fighting so hard to avoid signing it? That piece of paper is your ticket to happiness.”

  Connor wished he could believe that was all it was. Too often, though, it was a surefire path to misery. Passion turned to hatred. Children suffered. And nothing any of these happily-ever-after relatives of his said was going to convince him otherwise.

  Trace gave him a knowing look, as if he could read his mind. “Unless you think Abby and I, Jake and Bree and your folks are all doomed,” he said slyly.

  Connor didn’t deny it.

  “Well, your sisters and your parents might take exception to that,” Trace told him. “Hell, I take exception to it. Abby and I have our moments, but most of the time we are blissfully happy. If I could get her to slow down long enough to add to our family, I think our lives would be close to perfect.”

  “Look, you know I wish you all nothing but the best,” Connor told him. “I hope your marriages last forever. I just think the odds are against it.”

  “So it’s better not even to try?” Trace asked.

  “That’s the way I see it,” Connor insisted, though he couldn’t deny a moment of envy when Abby came over and wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist and gave him a smoldering kiss. Across the room, Jake was bending over Bree, checking on the two-week-old baby girl in her arms, his expression filled with awe, especially since they’d been half convinced they were having a son. Connor recalled feeling exactly like that when he and Heather had brought their son home from the hospital. Her pregnancy with little Mick had happened by accident. Knowing there’d never be another one filled him with unspeakable sorrow.

  “I need some air,” he said suddenly to no one in particular, then walked outside.

  To his dismay, he found Heather on the porch. In his current mood, it was more temptation than he could resist.

  Before he could think about what he was doing or why, he tucked a finger under her chin and kissed her, just a quick graze of his lips across hers. She blinked at him in confusion.

  “What was that about?” she asked, a hitch in her voice.

  “I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted.

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t do it again,” she said, rubbing at her lips as if to wipe away the feel of his mouth on hers.

  “Probably not,” he agreed, then met her gaze. It was doubtless a bad idea to admit right now that he was lying. Wise or not, there were going to be more kisses if he had his way. And one of these days very soon, he was going to have to figure out just where he intended them to lead.

  Having Connor back in town was not going to be easy, Heather concluded a few weeks after the welcome-home dinner that had turned into a major celebration. Oh, the dinner itself had been fine, no more uncomfortable than all the other O’Brien family occasions to which she’d been invited. It was the kiss that had left her shaken and confused.

  She hadn’t wanted to feel the surge of hope that welled up inside because she knew better than anyone that a mere kiss meant nothing. As for the move, it might not be anything more than just that, a relocation to Connor’s hometown. Not an hour went by that she didn’t dissect the meaning of it all or stare dreamily out the window thinking about the feel of his lips on hers. She was clearly out of her mind. Nothing had really changed.

  Still, in the three weeks he’d been back, Connor had been finding more and more excuses to spend time with her and little Mick. There’d even been another stolen kiss or two, not the kind that had once taken her breath away, but the kind that stirred her senses and filled her with longing just the same. Her protests had been ignored, most likely because they hadn’t been very convincing. She had no idea what any of it meant.

  As a result, though, she’d been more distracted than usual. Laila and Connie had called her on it more than once. It was a good thing she had only to walk downstairs to get to work, because heaven knew where she’d wind up if she had to drive.

  Today, though, with the quilt shop closed for the day, she had to head over to one of the big box discount stores to pick up everything from detergent and junior baby food to diapers and toilet paper. She’d left little Mick next door at the gallery with Megan and promised to be back in a couple of hours.

  She’d chosen a lousy day to make the trip. It had been pouring rain most of the morning, which made visibility on the winding road even worse than usual. She was tense behind the wheel, clutching it tightly as she watched for oncoming headlights. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to driving on these narrow, two-lane country roads. Give her a traffic jam on the interstate any day.

  Worse, there was a car behind her. Though for once the driver didn’t seem to be impatient about her cautious pace, she kept glancing in her rearview mirror as well as ahead, which just added to the tension.

  Then, not even five miles out of town, she rounded a curve in
the road to see another car coming straight at her in the wrong lane. Intuitively, she swerved to avoid a collision, but on the narrow road there was no place to go. Her tires skidded on the gravel shoulder, then lost traction as the car veered wildly off the road.

  Everything seemed to move in slow-motion after that. Though she jammed on the brakes, the car kept moving, skidding across the soaked ground directly toward the trees that lined the roadway.

  Panicked, she knew a crash was inevitable. Her last thoughts were of her son and Connor. A prayer that she’d see them again.

  She barely heard the sickening crunch of metal as she crashed into a tree, then careened into a second one. The airbag deployed with astonishing force.

  The pain was nearly blinding. Her head. Her leg. Her chest. She hurt everywhere.

  And then, blissfully, nothing.

  16

  It was midweek of his third week back in Chesapeake Shores and Connor was arranging law books in his new office, when Mick walked in. Connor studied his father with concern. Not only had he apparently gone out in the pouring rain without an umbrella, but Mick’s expression was more somber than Connor had ever seen it except during those awful days when his mother had first left home. He stopped what he was doing and crossed the room.

  “Dad, what’s wrong? You shouldn’t be walking around in weather like this. You’re soaking wet.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, but I think you need to sit down,” Mick said, though he was the one who looked as if he might pass out.

  Connor’s entire body seemed to go numb at the dire expression on his father’s face and the gloomy tone of his voice. “What’s happened? Is it little Mick?”